Bright Colours
by San'Hana
Summary: The fairies have an invisible enemy eating away at their wings. In this moment of uncertainty and weakness, some, among the different races, will be their allies, and some might take it as an opportunity to turn against them. [Potionless]
1. Chapter 1 - A New Hue

_Disclaimer: "Strange Magic" belongs to Mr. Lucas. So sue me._

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Bright Colours

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 **Chapter 1— A New Hue**

Autumn was supposed to be here more than two weeks ago, Marianne realized as she began to grow tired. She had been flying for barely half an hour, and already her skin was damp with perspiration.

Where was this blazing heat coming from? As much as she wanted to wear her full armour to train, it was just unreasonable under this weather, and it was the third day in a row over 30°C.

Dawn had, once again, disappeared somewhere with Sunny, and Marianne had been told by their father to fetch her. Before leaving, Dawn had said she was going to dye her wings for the Pumpkin Festival, but last time Marianne checked the salon, her appointment had ended. Now, Marianne had no idea (she should have asked the stylist…) what colour her sister's wings were, so she wouldn't be able to recognize her from afar. She sighed impatiently and let out a growl of frustration, wiping her forehead roughly.

Dawn wasn't at the border, fortunately. There had been quite a few reports of large reptiles sunbathing out of the shadows of the Dark Forest, so the king had issued a warning to avoid as much as possible the few metres before the trees. Indeed, when Marianne had flown by before, she hadn't seen anyone. This time, she took a chance and landed under a fern to rest.

Now, while she loved the summer heat, she regretted leaving the cool walls of the castle that day. Her eyeliner would leak if she kept this speed up. Was there not a trail of water nearby, to maybe splash her arms and soak her feet before continuing her search?

Disappointed by how little the plant protected her from the heat, she pushed the fern's leaves aside, only to hear the loud "thump" of a frog landing close and the rustling of grass. Sure enough, the green amphibian hopped past her and into the Dark Forest, probably looking for the same comfort she had last hope ever finding again.

(Insects and amphibians seemed to be leaving the Fairy Kingdom these past few days. They were known to flee the worst of the heat in July, but to keep doing so in September was rare. Nobody had ever seen anything like it.)

Marianne went the opposite direction. Since the frogs were most often hanging around water, there was a chance she could find more the way this one came from. Over her head, dragonflies zoomed by, immediately followed by a fairy.

She peeked up and although the bright orange, black and yellow wings were unfamiliar, Marianne recognized her sister's golden head, white dress and the wide patterns she drew as she was flying. Really, when would that girl learn to fly straight?

"Dawn!" Marianne called after her before taking flight. "Wait!"

Dawn slowed down and searched around until she saw her sister's silhouette coming after her. She greeted her with a wide smile.

"Oh, Marianne! I was looking for you!"

"What? _I_ was looking for you. Where were you? Where's Sunny?"

"Sunny went home. He said he was feeling dizzy, probably because it's too hot."

Dawn spun gracefully so Marianne could see her wings. "I wanted to show you my brand-new wings! So? How do you like the orange?"

"Err… It looks… Well, yeah, not bad."

"I love that new wingstylist they hired, she did a really good job with the lines!"

"Yeah, you're right, it's pretty. But I came to bring you back to the castle."

"What? Is it already suppertime?"

"No, no. Dad sent me to get you."

At that, Dawn took a serious face and touched her lower lip with the tip of a finger, like she was asking herself a question. Marianne feigned impatience.

"So… you're coming with me or not?"

"Well, there's something I also have to look for, so how about you go on ahead and I join you right after!" She pressed her hands together in a prayer and her wings flapped a bit faster, making her go up slightly.

"No, I have to get you home now. What are you looking for?" Marianne followed her higher. "Can't you wait until tonight to get it?"

"No, I need a sunflower petal. The wingstylist said to paste some on my wings as much as possible for the first few hours, to make sure the colour doesn't change while it settles. Only, they didn't have any left, so I have to find some myself."

"We'll get you some after we're done talking with Dad, okay?"

"Oh, but every time you say that, you forget!"

"I promise I'll help you find one."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise. Let's go now, shall we?"

They headed home. Marianne focused on the road (to make sure to avoid anything or anyone suddenly taking off) while Dawn hummed a song loudly and zigzagged in the air.

"You're right, it's a really pretty colour," said Marianne after taking a quick look. "A bit flashy, but pretty. What did they use?"

"I don't know, they said it was a new technology. It's supposed to last longer. Oh, I can't wait for the festival to show it to everyone!"

"Yeah, let's just hope you don't get your wings wet before that. It'd be a pain if the colour, you know…" She made a flowing gesture with her arms. "Washed away."

"They said the colour would last even if I get them wet!"

"What? What are the sunflower petals for, then?"

"It's to keep the powder stuck. They said the 'kemics' worked best together, whatever that means."

"Wait. Powder?"

Marianne came to a halt, flapping her wings vigorously to stay in place. Dawn slowed down too but didn't stop completely.

"What kind of powder?"

"I don't know! It was glistening. I wish you'd seen it. They said it's made from huge, giant rocks."

"I have never, ever heard of wing powder."

"Yeah, me neither. But it does a really good job, don't you think? Just add a bit of talent!" She turned around and kept flying, humming the same song as earlier, as if to let Marianne appreciate the art for herself.

"Yeah… if only it didn't make your wings look like glass," she mumbled, knowing she wouldn't be heard.

Marianne followed her in silence. Powder, like the powder they used on their skin as makeup? For some reason, applying makeup on your wings didn't sound like a great idea.

"You know," Dawn started as she flew a bit closer, "if it were something liquid, like a paste, I wouldn't be able to fly until it dried. At least, with a powder, I'm not stuck on the ground for the whole day."

"But we've only started dying our wings a generation ago or so. For all we know, it could be bad in the long term."

"Oh, Marianne, you always take things too seriously."

Marianne wiped the sweat off her neck with a hand. She could feel her upper back getting moist. Nothing could make her feel dirtier and so irritable.

"Well, it's not a bad thing to care for your wings. You know they don't heal if they're damaged."

"So… you don't want to try?"

Dawn flipped on her side to look at her sister more fully, a wide smile on her face. How was she not bothered by the heat?

"Pink would be perfect on you!"

"No, thank you." She avoided Dawn's gaze, hoping it would end the conversation.

It didn't.

"Why not? You wear such faded colours sometimes! Brown, beige, black… Why not try something… I don't know, _merrier_?"

"Because I don't care about my look as much as you."

"Well, you should! How are you going to attract anybody if you always look like you're about to go to war?"

"At least they know what to expect!" Marianne raised a fist and laughed at her own reply while Dawn rolled her eyes.

* * *

They found their father in his library, in the upper towers. His face stretched into a beaming smile when he saw Dawn.

"My dear! I'm so glad Marianne found you. Oh, your wings!"

Dawn giggled happily. "You like it?"

"I love it! Orange looks great on you. Speaking of which, there's something I'm going to need your help with. I know you're going to love me!" Grinning, he placed an arm on her shoulders to lead her to his desk.

"So… I take it you don't need me anymore?" Marianne asked, hoping she could go wash herself.

"No, I don't. Thank you, Marianne, I'll see you at supper."

"Okie dokie!"

As she opened the door to exit the room, she heard her father explain to Dawn: "I need you to help me pick out colours for the soldiers' wings." It stopped her right in her tracks.

"Really? Cool! That sounds fun!" Dawn replied enthusiastically, clapping her hands and jumping slightly. "You mean they're all going to get them dyed?"

"Yes, and I thought about making it an exclusive colour, with a distinct style. Only the royal soldiers could wear them, it would be like… a part of their uniform! What do you think?"

"That's a great idea!"

"Dad, you can't be serious?" Marianne turned around facing them with her fists on her waist. "Wouldn't that be horribly expensive? You know these things don't last forever."

The king seemed taken aback by his daughter's opposition. "No, there's a new technology that's been developed in the South. Haven't you heard?"

"Oh, me, Dad, I've heard!" Dawn chipped in, a hand over her head. "It's the Miracle Powder, isn't it? That's what I'm wearing!"

"Exactly!" The man turned excitedly to his younger daughter. "And isn't it beautiful? Besides, it can only be erased with the Miracle Eraser, so even water can't alter the colour."

"Well…" Marianne hesitated, not sure why she didn't approve of his idea. "I don't know… I don't think the elves would approve of the spending."

"They'll be able to recognize a soldier even when they're not in armour," her father replied immediately. "If they're in trouble, they'll know which fairies can help them."

"That's…" Marianne pinched the space between her eyes, annoyed. "Seriously, no. If the soldiers can be recognized even when they're not working, it means they never really stop working. Who wants that kind of job?"

"Being a soldier is a dedication to your kingdom. I'm sure they'd be proud to wear its colours. Who knows, maybe it'll even attract more fairies in the army, just so they can have the same!"

"And I assume the current soldiers wouldn't have a choice?"

"No, of course not. Unity, my dear! There would be no irregularity. They'll be one, beautiful mass of strong soldiers wearing the colours of their kingdom. It'd show our enemies that we are one, that we are organized, and so, that we are powerful!"

Dawn clapped her hands, laughing excitedly again. Marianne sighed.

"I don't know, Dad. If I were them and I was told I had to dye my wings or resign, I wouldn't be thrilled."

"But you're different, my dear. You're not one to want to blend in with the group. It's okay, everybody has the right to their opinion…"

"Dad, drop it. It's simply not a good idea. Besides, what enemies do we have?"

The king raised his hand in defence, slightly frightened. Marianne couldn't tell if he was serious or not.

"Oh, the King of the Dark Forest is a sinister creature, my dear."

"Are you kidding? They never visit, we never visit. They're just neighbours. What kind of threat do you think they pose?"

"We can't take peace for granted, that's for sure! Not since _he_ ascended to the throne all those years ago, when you were just a little girl, before even Dawn was born."

"Marianne," Dawn whispered, "don't you remember what happened to the Sugar Plum Fairy?"

It was Marianne's turn to be surprised into a short silence. "Of course I remember. And I still don't understand why we can't help her."

"My dear…" The king slowly approached his eldest daughter, not a hint of amusement in his expression. "The people of the Dark Forest are creatures we know nothing about. We have no idea of their number. In the grass, here, we are visible and very little protected. If they decide to invade, we may not stand a chance even with all the men and women of this kingdom."

He went back to his youngest daughter, his feet high in the air as he walked, like a teacher trying to look important. "Thus, if the king of the Dark Forest is happy that we don't bother them, it's best we keep it this way."

A friendly smile on his face, he returned his attention to Dawn.

"And with that, let's start sketching, my dear. I want to know your ideas!"

"Yes, let's get to it!"

Both went to sit at his desk, face to face. Marianne decided to drop the subject for now and hope they'd realize by themselves, later, that they couldn't impose such an invasive treatment to all those fairies just because they think it'd be "beautiful" or "look strong."

Then again, when did fairies not obsess over aesthetics?

* * *

Marianne stepped, naked, on the stone of her bath and the thin layer of fresh water at its bottom. When she started splashing her limbs, she shivered half from the temperature shock, half out of pure annoyance. Her sprites floated by, staring absently.

In the Dark Forest, right on the other side of the Fairy Kingdom's border, lived goblins, kappas, fairy-like insects and other creatures with no name. Their king supposedly lived in a castle in the middle of the realm. Some said he was an exiled, cursed fairy. Others swore he was anything but a fairy. In all cases, he was a strange myth of cruel, but peaceful reign.

Apparently, they found their resources mostly in the wild land. Rumour was their army only spontaneously formed, meaning citizens could join fights they agreed with and stayed away from those they didn't. It was even written, in one recent book, that their territory had no delimitations or frontiers within it, and that their king only dealt with his people when there was significant trouble… or when he suspected someone from the Fairy Kingdom was among them. Otherwise, they said he was a lone ruler, with no court and no wife by his side.

It was also said, however, that the king himself prohibited love in the Dark Forest, and that his fury, when his rule was not respected, was terribly vicious.

Marianne wondered how an entire kingdom could accept a ban on love... but at the same time, she couldn't decide if she found it sad or if she was envious that they did.

The fairies' idea of "fun" was courtship, and ever since Roland had made a fool out of her, it made her want to gag. Through singing, dancing, poetry, gifts, random crafts, and careful, strategic decoration of their bodies, fairies constantly flirted with each other. It was a good thing they had offspring with such difficulty, or the kingdom would have been overpopulated.

Nobody else seemed to value the aesthetics of independence, of the strength of a single soldier. All they ever thought about was what others thought about. There was so much vulnerability in letting other people's opinions matter, in depending on their good will to be happy. To trust anyone past the point of suspicion.

She believed herself to be pretty enough to be desirable even without the flowers and the lace and the flowy-showy of a long dress. One day, anyway, she would be queen, and just to earn themselves the title of king or co-queen, nobody would care what she looked like. She was the only one to appreciate the work she put in her appearance.

And in her opinion, she was most beautiful with a silver sword in her hands, sporting a fierce look, cutting through with grace and confidence.

Love was important, but it was fleeting, ephemeral, like smoke. And just like fire, when it broke, it could cause so much destruction. Never again would Marianne expose herself to such a risk. She had a promising life and no one would take it away from her.

She blinked and cursed under her breath. Some water had splashed over her right eye. She'd have to check on her makeup... again.

Marianne was tired of trying to fit in. Marianne wondered if anyone felt the same, sometimes.

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 _～Hello, reader! You may find the choice of words is not 100% natural, or the grammar occasionally incorrect. I'm not an English speaker so if you notice any mistakes or have suggestions to improve it, I hope you will share your thoughts with me in a PM. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2 - Side Effects

**Chapter 2 – Side Effects**

For days, the heat continued.

Marianne had more than enough but what can you do against weather?

Eventually, the king and Dawn released the final wing designs. There was one for every rank. Marianne proved absolutely unable to show interest in seeing them.

To her surprise, though, the soldiers' reaction was very tame. They even looked like they were actually looking forward to the treatment. A few resigned; others, who were opposed to the idea, didn't do anything to make their voices heard. The king had everything to believe his idea would meet no resistance at all.

To top it off, there was a slight surge in the recruitment, as he had expected.

The fairy army, Marianne thought, was so tolerant of their leader's flamboyant state of mind, she wouldn't be surprised if anyone managed to stage a coup. The entire army would be gullible enough to follow blindly.

A slash of her sword to her imaginary enemy helped dissipate that cloud of smoke in her mind.

"When I'm queen," she told her sprites, "I'll go to the Dark Forest and talk to the king myself. _I'll_ make peace a reality. We won't need an army anymore. There will be no borders."

She put a blindfold back on her eyes, using it at the same time to sponge some sweat from her brow. "And nobody will be forced to cover their colours to keep their job. Gosh, I can't believe they don't see how ridiculous that is."

She kept training for a while, unsuccessfully ignoring the way even the air felt heavy to lift.

After a while, though, she heard the voices of fairies in flight approaching. Intrigued, she pulled her blindfold, only to see fairy men and women as sweaty as she was, carrying large leaves in teams and acorns full of bottles at the end of their arms like it weighed a pound.

"Err… hello? What's going on?" she asked, dumbfounded, to the first visitors of this isolated part of the castle's grounds since last spring.

A man halfway planted his acorn to the ground and used his shirt to wipe his forehead. "Your Highness. We apologize for disturbing you. We were told by Sir Roland that we could use this space for the colouration of the 5th regiment."

"Oh. When… are you scheduled to start?"

Just from his expression, Marianne could hear his unsaid "How, exactly, are you not aware?" right before "Err, tomorrow morning."

"I see. Well, can't wait to see the results…"

Feeling the looks in her back, she headed to her room, sprites behind her head.

Things were happening fast. It made her want to avoid the event even more. There was going to be flirting everywhere in town for days…

* * *

Two days later, the colouration was done. The heat, not so much.

Marianne watched the regiments' parade from her room's window, fanning her face with a sheet of paper. The elves and some neighbour creatures from the Pond, like the turtles and some insects, had assembled around the central fountain to cheer. Okay, she thought, maybe all these matching colours flying together were cool, but…

"I knew you'd be here!"

She jumped and turned around to find Dawn gliding through the door. Marianne placed a hand on her chest in tragedy, making her sister snicker.

" _Why_ do you have to glide inside the castle? I never hear you when you arrive!"

The young fairy landed close to the window, next to her. "I wanted to see what it looked like from here. Your window has a much better view than mine."

"Well, your window faces the Pond."

"Yeah."

Dawn sighed and slumped over the windowsill, looking tired, her wings still straight over them.

"It was _so_ much work but finally, it's done! What do you think?"

"It's… beautiful. The designs are… original. You drew them yourself?"

"Yup. All of them. Dad has really bad taste in general, so I had to compensate, you know."

"And… how do I know it's not the other way around?"

They both chuckled (Dawn was more mock-laughing) but neither added anything for a moment, just watching the regiments fly in unison, shiny lines of colours over the buildings. Dawn's monarch-like wings kept hovering over their heads.

"I hope it's going to rain tomorrow…" Dawn said, mostly to herself.

"I _know_ , right? Like, it's _so_ humid."

"I don't even want to walk anymore."

"Oh, is that why you're not folding your wings?"

"No, I'm just fanning us."

The last regiment elevated itself into shiny grey and blue lines. The people applauded.

Dawn was the one to break the silence: "Ugh, I can't _wait_ for the Pumpkin Festival! Hopefully it won't be cold like last year."

"Yeah, warm is nice but _hot_ is not."

By adjusting her posture, Dawn accidentally pushed a bottle from Marianne's dressing table. Its glass body ringed against the rock but stayed in one piece. "Sorry! Thank goodness that didn't break," she said as she turned around to pick it up.

What really caught Marianne's attention was her sister's frown when her wings pulled on the curtains.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just… My wings are kind of dry." She put the bottle on the desk. "It must be because of the sun."

"That's weird."

"Or maybe I didn't put the petals long enough on the first day."

Marianne didn't say anything. Fairies had been colouring their wings since before she was born and they had never had any major problems. Maybe the heat just warmed her wings more than usual, and the powder got slightly dry.

As soon as the parade was over, Dawn flew out of the window (to meet some soldiers with her friends, Marianne guessed). Her flight seemed as distracted and slow as always.

Oh well. Marianne was probably reading too much into this.

* * *

Finally, on the following day, dark clouds covered the sky from the morning on. At noon, the first droplets gave the plants their well-deserved hydration. The whole kingdom sighed at once, relieved.

Rain, however, meant danger for the fairies. On those days, the winged humanoids stayed indoors, waiting for the signal from the frogs.

This included a satisfied Marianne, sipping tea in the hall, watching the fairies as they watched the rain fall with gasps. She should probably be gasping as well seeing the force of it, but somehow, she couldn't find it in herself not to appreciate the cool air first.

"Sir Roland!" someone called from the crowd. A soldier, slightly wet and his shiny beige wings neatly folded behind his back, ran to greet him. When she noticed he was sitting just a table away, Marianne lowered her cup and her sprites hissed.

"Yes?"

"We just received a report about the 1st regiment, at the border," she heard the soldier say. "They'll be back as soon as the rain subsides."

"Oh, is that all? Alright, message taken, thank you."

"Minus two. They have fallen into the Dark Forest and are unable to come back."

Roland almost choked in his sudden amusement.

"You mean, they can't fly under the trees because of the rain? That's ridiculous. You know what? Serves them right. You're dismissed, soldier."

The soldier saluted him quickly and went back into the crowd.

"Wait, what?" Marianne directed loudly at him. "You're not going to look for them?"

Oddly enough, or not oddly at all, Roland didn't seem surprised to see her sitting nearby. He smothered a condescending laugh and twisted his hair over his brow.

"Believe me, sweetheart, I would… but with _this_ weather? I don't know about you, but _I_ don't feel like swimming right now."

"Oh. Do my ears deceive me? Is Sir Roland _scared_ of a little rain?" Her sprites laughed in a low tinkle.

His head flew in her direction.

"Of course not! Rain is, err… magnificent. The problem is, if I go get them, they'll be sure to spoil the beautiful colours on their wings. Which, by the way…"

He got up from his chair to show a bit of his wings in a slow motion that made her uncomfortable, for some reason.

"…were not coloured on me. You know why, Buttercup?"

An indifferent sip of tea acted as her reply.

"Because there's only one person in my rank. My colours are," he twisted a lock of hair over his brow, "out of reach, for most."

Marianne rolled her eyes with as much annoyance as she could muster and got up as well, preparing to leave. "Good for you, Roland. But you know what other colours are out of reach? Those of a king. Yeah, especially for you."

For once, he looked like he was looking for an answer. Before he could react with an "Oh, Marianne," she swiftly exited the hall and headed to her room again.

Hell, if no one was going to look for them, she certainly couldn't miss the opportunity of a little action. All she needed was her sword and a hydrangea leaf large enough for one.

She thought of telling Dawn she had to leave and not to look for her, but her sister wasn't in her room. It was unlikely for her to be outside on a day like this…Marianne shrugged and left with what she needed for the trip.

* * *

Although dangerous, flying under the rain was not unpleasant. Marianne had a large umbrella but the force of the rain alone was difficult to handle and she was loving the challenge. The wind was strong enough sometimes to make her deviate from her path, and once, she was briefly blown over her leaf. Feeling invincible, she laughed it off until she arrived at the border. The border itself, its enormous plants, the cool gusts that escaped from it, was what brought her back to reality.

She stood frozen for a moment, asking herself how convinced she was that this was the right thing to do. Thinking of the soldiers, who were probably not expecting any help to come their way, filled her with pity, and second by second, her strength returned. She finally found the courage to drop the hydrangea and dive into the darkness, where rain only floated as mist.

Flying in this wild land was as shocking and confusing as she had imagined. Everywhere she went, she kept her body straight and close to her wings, careful not to touch the branches and webs suspended here and there, all the while keeping her eyes down to the forest floor, low underneath the Fairy Kingdom's level. She suspected they'd be resting on the very ground, as far away from the pouring sky as possible.

There was no noise around her but the trees' faint movements to the wind, no voice and no creature that she could see. Was anyone living here at all? Or did they also have a habit of hiding from the rain?

Behind her, after she had passed a dense bush of thorns, a message crossed the kingdom in a whisper: " _A third fairy has entered the Dark Forest._ "

* * *

An hour later, she was shivering and growing restless, but she finally spotted the shiny armours of two fairies on the ground, sitting miserably against a trunk, their wings unfurled around them. Relieved, she lowered herself to them, making a large circle around plants that looked like open mouths with fangs.

"Princess Marianne!"

As soon as they saw her, their wings slipped behind them and they kneeled respectfully. Their visors were in the mud, next to them.

"Stand," she said immediately. "I'm glad I was able to find you. Are you both alright?"

They both shared an uncomfortable look, then went back to her.

"We are, your Highness, but…" said the one on her left. "We got our wings wet and…"

Seeing his comrade's hesitation, the one to her right continued in a low voice, like he was afraid he'd be scolded: "Something's wrong with the colouration, your Highness."

"What? What's wrong?" So her prediction was true?

"Our wings were stiff," he explained, "so we tried to soften them with a little bit of water. Now, we can't fly anymore."

She let her head fall back in frustration, cursing her father, but quickly returned to the situation at hand.

"So we have to wait until they're dry? Will you be able to fly then?"

"Well, err…"

They both spread their wings slightly to show her. She froze at the sight of them, her eyes wide.

There were black spots around the edges and over their surface, like rotten fruit.

"It… kind of hurts," said the one to her left. "And the scales have started to fall…"

"Me too," said the other one, lowering his head.

"This is a nightmare," Marianne whispered while taking a closer look. The infected parts looked disgustingly oozy. "It's going to take an eternity for the scales to grow back…"

"That's what we fear. And… as much as we want to get out of here, it's way too slippery for us to climb. Fortunately, I don't think anyone has seen us so far…"

As if on cue, they looked around with a worried gaze. There was nothing but plants: ferns, a few flowers, and a large, white mushroom, about a centimetre away.

"Princess," said the one on her left, "does this mean everyone who had their wings coloured will have the same… problem? Do you think it's something in the rain?"

"No, it's definitely the powder," Marianne responded, taking a step back. "There has to be something dry around here that we could use to absorb, err, whatever's coming out of your wings…"

They looked around, but everything was wet.

"Never mind, I'll go find something. You two stay here, and try not to move too much. I'll be right back."

She didn't have time to fly very far: a tall creature with long limbs, dragonfly-like wings, a thick, brown carapace, a staff in his clawed hands and a furious expression on his face immobilized himself right in front of her.

"Well, well," he said in an amused, scratchy voice. "So there really was a Fairy in the Dark Forest."

Without thinking, Marianne unsheathed her sword.

* * *

～ _As always, if you spot something weird in the text, I'd appreciate if you took a second and let me know. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3 - Enemies

**Chapter 3 – Enemies**

Her sword was unsheathed, but she didn't speak right away. He took advantage of the look of surprise on her face to smile with all his teeth and slowly get closer, knowing that'd probably be enough to send her running with her tail between her legs.

In the end, he was the one who slightly recoiled. She had placed her sword in his direction already, not breaking her position. Her gaze was a bit shaky but straight.

"Listen," she spoke in a voice surprisingly powerful for a fairy, "I'm not here for trouble. I came to help someone who got lost."

He glanced down very briefly at the glistening weapon but didn't let any surprise show.

"This forest's off-limits to fairies," he hissed. "I assume you'd be aware."

She blew a strand of hair playfully out of her face. "Not very friendly, eh? Do you know—"

– _who I am_ , she had been about to say, but she cut herself off immediately. He didn't know who she was.

"Err… where… they might be? My companions. Have you seen them?"

He blinked at the unexpected response. He hadn't seen a fairy from so close in forever, and it was almost daunting. He hadn't even known there were some that would have the guts to look at him straight in the eye with a weapon raised… and besides, he had heard they were vulnerable under the rain.

"What? So… there are… more of you?" He raised his staff higher, falling short of making it a threat.

It took her half a second more to reply. Not only did he not recognize her, Marianne realized, he also hadn't noticed the two guards on the other side of the giant roots. Maybe it wasn't too late, then, to defuse the situation…

"No, it's just… the both of us. My mistake." Her face looked placid once more. "He's, err… somewhere, I'm trying to find him."

The confidence in her posture had somewhat faded, though.

"So that's why you were heading for the heart of the Forest?" He summoned his angry, menacing voice back. "What, exactly, makes you think that would be a great idea?"

Then, to his pleasure, the iron in her look returned. "I'm not going to repeat myself. Either you get out of my way until I bring him home, or you help me find him."

A smile formed on his narrow face.

"Help you? No problem, tough girl. Don't concern yourself with him anymore. We'll take good care of him for you. In the meantime, there's a free room in the dungeon," he gestured with his left arm like an invitation.

She took it as her signal and threw herself at him, sword first, with as much focus as she could. He blocked her slice, but she kept the pressure on it.

"Look, I'm telling you," she warned between her teeth. "I don't want to fight you. But if I must, I won't hold back, and you're going to regret it."

"Ha! What'cha gonna do with that sword? _File my nails_?"

Marianne's lips stretched into an amused smile and she stole a quick look to his hands. "Yeah. They even look like they might _need it_."

They were smiling at each other.

"So go on, goblin. _Try me_."

He pushed her as hard as he could and tried to hit her from her right side, but she avoided it by letting herself fall backwards, coming back at him from beneath, sword brandished. He gave himself a good jolt with his wings to avoid it, a quick "Oh!" escaping his lips and her wings brushing him. Slashes of her sword flew from all directions, and he managed to block them all. Relaxing again, she forced herself to stand still in front of him with powerful flutters of purple that splashed a few droplets at him.

He was impressed, but tried not to let it show. Instead, he threw himself at her with a scream and a wide vertical blow that Marianne was able to dodge by flying simply… much closer.

They both froze, the blade of her sword at his throat, his staff at arm's length in front of him, next to her shoulders.

Although he was surprised for a second, his right hand jumped to her right arm, releasing his staff and letting it slide to his left. His grip crushed her arm at first but he quickly released a bit of pression (not entirely meaning to). They both held each other's gaze as she took note of his subtle restraint.

"You have guts touching me," Marianne taunted.

He puffed a laugh. "Come on, I'm sure you can get out of it."

She jumped at his hand, one foot at his chest, wriggling through his fingers to free her arm in twists. Her tactic's success proved non-existent.

"That's not very effective, is it?"

"The answer is: yes, I am able to get out of this myself. You just watch!"

She went back to her grimaces trying to break herself free, and as she did, he noticed how soft her hands were.

The thought taking him by surprise, he pushed her away and grabbed his staff defensively. _Soft_? Only weaklings appreciated softness!

She looked… insulted? "What the hell was that for?"

He rolled his eyes. "It was gonna take you an hour."

"Oh yeah?" She charged at him with a furious look on her face. "See if you can dodge _this_!"

They exchanged blows and hits in close combat again, neither of them managing to touch the other.

Marianne even surprised herself at the amount of effort she put in every movement to make them strong, constant and elegant. It was like she was putting on a show more than battling him. (At the back of her mind, she was also painfully aware of the fact that the misty rain was making her eyeliner run down, which was probably ruining the aesthetic.)

"Come on, goblin. I'm bored already!" she taunted before taking a pose.

As for him, he was having the time of his life spinning with her, swinging his staff knowing that she would see it coming. Once, she blocked him by keeping their weapons over their heads. Her face even got momentarily closer to his, almost too much for his own comfort.

Also… _goblin_? She had no idea who he was, he realized.

"Not bad!" he teased with a half-honest, half-evil laugh. "For a _fairy_!"

"Look who's talking," she said coolly, looking at her nails, and then back to trying to notch his staff. "You're not even _trying_ to hit me!"

"Of course not, tough girl! Why would I, when I can merely make you—"

His next move was more sudden than the previous one and had an unexpected turn of the wrist. Her sword flew out of her hands, to her right.

"—surrender?" It was his turn to point his staff at her throat with a wide smile and a playful look that said, "I won!"

They were both panting. She shook some water out of her hair, but a few strands stuck to her cheek. For a second, he was mesmerized.

Marianne felt she had to make a difficult decision. The rain didn't seem to bother him at all, but her wings were getting heavier by the second, and at this rate, she'd tire out way before him.

Gaze steady, she suddenly grabbed his staff with both hands, kicked his torso to stun him and launched herself towards her sword, both wings half-furled to make herself glide through the air.

He followed her to the forest floor, unable to stop her from retrieving her weapon. To his surprise, though, once she landed, she didn't turn around: she gave herself another push to the left and rushed up through the trout lilies. He followed every random turn she took, gradually losing distance, until they were inside a garden of white lettuce.

Suddenly, she hid and stopped. He came to a halt, trying to guess where she had fallen to, listening for a breath, for a step through the sound of the rain; looking for a purple flash in the plants.

"What's wrong, _tough girl_? Too tired already?"

A small voice in his head said: " _Wait, don't go; it was fun_." He suppressed it with a growl.

All he was hearing was his own breathing and the trees.

He started walking around, a curse on the tip of his mouth, feeling like an idiot. As his search grew pointless, realization dawned upon him: she had beat him.

While impressive, there was no denying the affront. Oh, and he didn't like it! The only creatures that were usually able to outrun him were dragonflies. Now, a single _fairy_ had fought him in close combat, and successfully escaped without a single scratch?

Moving in wider circles, anger boiling minute after minute, he eventually gave up. "Don't worry, tough girl... We _will_ meet again, and this time, you'll be _mine_!" Deciding she was probably already gone and that it was useless to waste more time, he headed home to deploy search units.

This was going to be an interesting rival, he thought with a smile he couldn't contain. The Bog King found himself looking forward to the time he would see his enemy again.

(ahem— fight. Fight his enemy again.)

(Besides, she was probably faster because she was lighter. It wasn't his fault his torso was bulky.)

* * *

She couldn't believe her luck. He was agile, but she was faster in sprints. Still, how on Earth had she been able to escape such an impressive creature?

And what was he? she wondered. Couldn't be a fairy, but couldn't be an insect either… Was certainly no goblin after all, and definitely no kappa. But he spoke her language…

Trying to free her head of images of him, Princess Marianne grounded herself back to a calm state of mind, and carefully tried to shake the water out of her wing's scales. She'd have to find her way back to the soldiers soon. If that guy sounded an alarm, they'd all be found in no time, and that would be a disaster.

* * *

"Wow. That was scary."

"Which one? The Princess or… that thing?"

"…Both."

"…Yeah."

They had watched them fight, and gasped when they had seen the twinkling of the Princess's sword flying through the air. Once they had dove to the ground, the soldiers had lost sight of them. It had been both relieving and worrisome.

"Good thing he didn't spot us."

"I know. What _was_ that thing, anyway?"

"I've no idea. A flying mantis?"

"An oversized grasshopper?"

They sat back down, resuming their sketches on the soil.

"Hey, you know… If they find us, it's all over."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what's happening to our wings? It's because of the powder, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"The whole army has powder now. Everybody's going to get sick. I'll bet you there won't be a single soldier who's gonna be able to fly tomorrow."

He kept drawing on the ground, letting the drama settle. "Yup. The kingdom is now completely defenseless."

The other fairy slapped a hand to his cheek in comical shock. "If someone tries to invade us, we won't be able to fight back…"

"Exactly."

Both considered the scenario in silence.

"The ball is in the Princess's court now, I guess," said the one with a hand to the cheek. "Hey, can you imagine what would happen if she actually met the _king_ of the Dark Forest?"

"That wouldn't be good! She wouldn't stand a chance!"

"Well, she might be able to buy us a bit of time, but we have to get out of here _right now_ , before anyone sees us."

"And realizes our whole army is sick. Yeah… We probably should."

They lazily turned their heads to the wall of mud, then sighed.

"You know, maybe if we removed our armours, we'd be lighter."

"'You serious? No _way_ I'm removing my armour. It's the _only_ thing keeping me dry right now."

"Me too. Ugh, I guess we'll just have to wait for Sir Roland. I'm sure he's headed our way anyway."

"Yeah, you're right."

* * *

At the castle, a low panic was starting to rise in the king's chest. He could feel it even from his stomach.

Dawn had reported from the Elf village. Her beautiful wings were badly infected, like someone had burned them and poured poison over the wounds. He had barely been able to look at her.

Now, two dozen soldiers, including the one who had gone to pick Dawn up, were in the royal infirmary, which was already overcrowded. All with the same black spots on their wings. All doctors known to the royal registries had been summoned.

Treason, he decided. Whoever was using this powder… had a purpose. He'd have to investigate this matter before the culprits fled.

Of course, the king had immediately taken the time to silence the doctors. All known infected soldiers were in quarantine in the castle. They had also met the Elf that had been hanging with his youngest daughter to let him know he wouldn't be allowed out of the castle until the disease cleared. They used the pretext of possible contamination.

What if the Bog King knew of this? Since he was already holding the Sugar Plum Fairy captive, a citizen of the Fairy Kingdom, there was a good chance he was waiting for an opportunity to avenge himself from… whatever torment she must have made him endure. What if he knew his neighbour was helpless?

Or worst, what if the bees heard about it? They had coveted the flowers in their kingdom a long time ago and had lost the battle, but if they attacked again, the fairies wouldn't stand a chance. They'd all become slaves, and the elves wouldn't survive their stingers.

The elves… what if the elves decided to overthrow them? They seemed content as mere subjects of the royal family; elves had arrived on the territory after the fairies, and the fairies had promised them protection in exchange for food products. Still, the king suspected the only thing that was really keeping them out of the decision-making circles was the sheer knowledge that by being able to fly, fairies had a sizeable advantage in combat, and thus, that fairies were _superior_. Now, if they were given an opportunity for a rebellion, would they take it?

Oh, what was Marianne doing outside in this time of crisis?


	4. Chapter 4 - No Evidence

_A quick glossary to help you understand who is who:_

 _Lizard-tapir goblin: The small-sized ones with a short trunk_  
 _Aadvark goblin: The hairless ones with a round body and long limbs_  
 _Elf-bird goblin: The small-sized ones with a beak-like mouth and no lips_  
 _Dragon-toad goblin: The ones resembling toads with spikes (among which Bog's first love)_

 _(no need to memorize them, I'll remind you and give hints about their appearance whenever they are mentioned to help you remember.)_

* * *

 **Chapter 4 – No Evidence**

Bog landed in front of the castle's skull entrance in a thunderous mood, panting slightly. The two trolls guarding the entrance with a leaf as an umbrella stepped aside as soon as they saw their monarch, not even daring to greet him.

"So? Have any fairies been captured?"

They shook their heads.

"He's back! Go tell him!" he heard Stuff's gruff voice say from inside the castle.

"Why me?"

"He'll be happy to see you."

"Really…!"

Thang jumped happily next to him in the throne room: "Welcome home, Sire! Two messages from the mushrooms."

Bog stopped and turned at the fish-toad goblin, a silent order to continue. They had found her already?

The small creature straightened his back proudly. " _A turd ferry has entered the frost_." The complete seriousness in which the small creature had delivered it made him roll his eyes. "Also, _the two ferries are in Jupiter_."

Bog palmed his face and groaned in a muffled voice while he went to sit on the throne.

"You know, sometimes we have boats, err, transporting… smelly things, and they have to enter the snow kingdom— wherever that is… Well, now, they have crossed the galaxy, and **—** "

 **"** STUFF!"

The young troll appeared instantly, nudging their colleague aside.

"What's the message?"

" _The two fairies are injured_ , your Majesty. And _a third fairy has entered the Dark Forest_."

He'd need a moment to catch both his breath and his thoughts.

She was injured? Maybe she had injured herself while fleeing, or while defending her peer from goblins? In that case, he was sure to hear from them soon… and it would probably make her an easier catch.

So, why the third fairy, then? A fairy looking after a fairy looking after a fairy?

They couldn't possibly be sending spies? No, they'd send a single one, not three.

If they were really after him, though, it was best to wait for them here, in the castle. He could make sure his mother was safe. Gathering his strength (while _she_ certainly couldn't) also seemed like a great idea... He wasn't used to being awake in the middle of the day.

"Injured…" he murmured. "And another one that just came in. STUFF!"

The troll, who had been about to follow Thang out of the room, froze instantly and turned back towards him, eyes wide. Thang went to hide behind a door.

"No fairies have been found, yet?"

"No reports, your Majesty."

He grumbled some more, a hand on his chin.

"The border is being patrolled with dragonflies," Stuff added.

He clenched his fist in front of him and slammed it on his armrest: "Tell them they're not welcome until they bring me _at least_ one of them!"

"Will do, Sire!"

At that, Stuff returned politely to their seat, down the stairs leading to the throne.

Thang went to sit next to them: "By the way… They said you fought very well, sire."

Bog went completely rigid. Stuff scolded him silently. They knew…?

It suddenly became clear to him how it all looked: he had just battled a female enemy… and hadn't mentioned it yet. Probably wouldn't have mentioned it at all otherwise. His mother'd think he was hiding something. He'd never hear the end of it.

"Who said that?" His voice sounded too quick and too high.

"The elf-birds, Sire," Thang continued. Stuff let out an exasperated sigh. "Through the Mushrooms."

"Well, perhaps they don't see well in the daytime. Because it wasn't me. They have no evidence."

Both his servants turned their heads completely to look at him. He returned their looks with a thick mask of anger to cover his bafflement: "'Something you want to say?"

"No, your Majesty." Stuff laughed nervously and they both returned their gaze to the front of the room.

Bog passed a broad hand over his face, as if smoothing out his skin would smoothen out his mind.

"Do _not… ever_ mention that to my mother," he muttered between his fingers.

They looked at him again.

"Not _a word_ ," he continued, gritting his teeth. "You hear me? I didn't find any fairy. There was no fairy on my path."

They slowly nodded their heads. "Yes, Sire." "Okay." Neither of them said anything after that.

Well, all he had to do now was cross his fingers and hope that his mother never came across _that_ little story.

Now, the third fairy… The only reason the woman might need reinforcement, he guessed, was if she was seriously wounded and in a state of dire vulnerability. How satisfying that would be, to tower above such a fierce creature, gazing into her fierce, fierce eyes, telling her that she had no choice but to surrender, to know that he had at last conquered something wild and hot-tempered. Only then would his honour be saved, since, after all, she had escaped him once already!

The nerve of that woman… No, that would not happen twice. Moreover, nobody had to _know_ about it. He needed her in his grip _now_.

That convinced him that he had to go back out there himself to look for her.

And if he saw another fairy, he swore to himself he'd kill them on the spot. No more playing games.

As he was getting up from his throne with a grunt, his mother cheerfully entered the room.

"Oh, Bog, you're not going to believe it! I found you someone positively _perfect_ to spend time with!" She gestured behind her and a tall ant woman went to pose next to her.

"Not _now_ , Mother!" He hastened his pace.

"Meet Arin, a record-breaking rock plates—"

"No." She'd never leave him alone if he stayed. The ant woman left apparently crestfallen.

"What do I have to do to help you find company?" she nagged in response. "I don't know what to look for anymore, at least give me a hint!"

He sighed loudly and stormed out with his staff: "I am _not_ having this conversation with you."

"Don't worry," he heard her call from behind him. "Imma keep trying for as long as it takes!"

He stepped back into the rain, hunching his shoulders to avoid water falling directly on his face. He gathered all the creatures he could find in the vicinity (except for the guards, which he tasked with the protection of his mother), and directed them to the general area where he had fought the fairy woman, along with the instruction to bring them back alive.

Right before he headed there himself, the shower doubled in intensity. He glared at the leaves covering the sky —and immediately regretted it because a drop went straight into his left eye.

Weren't fairies incredibly weak under the rain?

As much as he wanted to find somewhere dry to rest first, something told him he should keep looking, just in case she really was in a bad state.

A prisoner was more useful when it was healthy, obviously. There was no other reason he felt that way. Not him, nope.

* * *

"Okay, what was I going to do?" Griselda silently asked herself before heading back to the kitchen, behind the throne room. She caught the arrogant smile Stuff finally felt free to show.

"They didn't catch any fairies?" she asked the troll.

"No. But the king… _he_ got caught."

Thang smirked with them: "That's what I thought too."

Griselda smelled potential gossip. There was no way she could resist asking nor stop the large smile that grew on her face. "What happened?"

"The elf-birds say they saw him fight a fairy… a _female_ fairy," Stuff whispered the last part, a hand covering their mouth towards the older goblin.

"But he denies it," Thang finished, rolling his thumbs innocently.

Griselda slapped her hands together near her cheek in delight. "And he's _hiding_ it from me? This is a sign!"

The troll walked to the skull entrance with that same smirk on their face. "You didn't hear it from me, Griselda."

"What? Wait, did he really order that _specifically_? That means you just disobeyed him?"

Stuff turned around, momentarily fearing they would be ratted out. In the end, they shrugged and kept going: "The elf-birds are going to talk about it anyway."

The mushroom planted closest to the castle was doing wide hand signs, Stuff noticed. They hurried to it, covering their face.

"Too bad, he just left," they told the fungi. "What is it?"

" _The whole fairy army is sick_ ," the mushroom whispered to their ear.

"Okay, I'll let him know."

* * *

Marianne walked painfully through the rugged terrain until she found the soldiers' hiding place. Her wings were soaked and she was freezing.

"Guys!" she called when she got closer, hugging herself with her arms and her wings. "Are you okay?"

They didn't reply right away. In fact, they weren't there anymore. Instead, there was a large puddle —which was probably the reason they had moved.

Now, how was she supposed to know where they had gone? She threw her head back and roared a loud curse at the trees (then stopped herself, remembering bad people were looking for her).

With the poor light, it was hard to tell which shapes in the mud were their footprints. They hadn't left anything behind them either, suggesting they hadn't been in a hurry.

It probably was her imagination, but she could have sworn there was a large and detailed drawing of a flower in the middle. She had thought fairies were obsessed with them but this just confirmed it...

Oh, but this was not good. Not good at all. She was soaked to the skin and terribly cold. If someone found her —if _he_ found her, she wouldn't be much of a challenge anymore. And that, both her competitive spirit and her pride couldn't accept it. She had to improvise herself some kind of shelter so she could dry her wings, or at least until the rain cleared.

Maybe Roland had been right after all?

No, she refused to go down that road. Even the tiniest credit was credit she couldn't give him.

"Princess!" someone suddenly whisper-screamed, somewhere.

Relieved, she spun around frenetically, trying to find the source of the voice. She found the soldiers waving at her from inside a fallen tree trunk.

"Quick!" one pressed her as she was running to them. "There are lots of dragonflies around here…"

She climbed inside and decided to sit there, between them, in miserable silence. Her makeup was a mess for sure, so no point in trying to save face. Literally.

"How are your wings?" she asked, rubbing her arms.

"It's getting larger for me…" replied one timidly.

"Me too," said the other.

"We have to go home right now," she reminded them. "We're all wet anyway, so why waste time here and not try to go home?"

"But… the rain is the cause of the black spots, your Highness."

She turned towards the one who had said that.

"What do you mean?"

"Whenever water touches our wings, it gets bigger. And it burns, it's… really painful. Even now. It's kind of scary…"

The other one nodded. She hid her face in her hands.

"So we really have to wait for the rain to stop… But nobody saw you so far, right?"

"Nobody, your Highness."

"Good."

While she was still burying her eyes, the two soldiers shared a confused look.

"…and you, your Highness? Did you see anyone?"

She jumped ever so slightly, then uncovered her eyes with a nervous jerk.

"Err… No, no. I didn't. I was looking for something to act as bandages. But it's just too… everything is too wet, so I came back."

Why was she unable to tell them about him?

"Are you sure, your Highness? Because—"

The other soldier made a cut-throat gesture at him behind the princess's back.

"…err, because there are really lots of dragonflies in the area. It's a surprise you weren't found."

"Lucky for me, I didn't see any," she replied with the nervous laugh of someone unable to hide their own spontaneous lies. "I think we're safe here until it stops raining."

The soldiers shared another look, abashed, and shrugged silently, then continued staring at the falling rain.

A soldier once unfurled his wings a little bit, careful not to touch anyone, and softly brushed the scales that were not damaged. Marianne could tell they were trying not to show signs of pain. The black spots looked sticky.

After a short while, the rain doubled in intensity. They shared a long collective sigh of annoyance.

"Don't worry, Princess," said one in a reassuring tone. "Sir Roland must be on his way already. He'll help us out."

Marianne's very round eyes suddenly turned to him. "Are you… kidding? _Roland_?"

She jumped out of the trunk and started looking around in quick movements. "No way. There's no way that… that _buffoon_ is going to be the hero of the day. We need no saving, I can guarantee you that. No, I'm finding you a leaf, and we're going home. _Now._ "

They stared at her like she was crazy. "But– But the rain–"

" _Now_." Before walking away, she added: "It's an order."

Not one to wait for a comeback, she hurried to the first solid-looking plant she could find and tried to tear away a leaf. There was a feeling of urgency in the way she pulled on the branches.

It had just taken the mention of Roland's name to remind her that she was absolutely capable of handling a situation like this one.

A situation where she is unable to fly, in charge of two wounded soldiers who are also unable to fly, fleeing an unknown aggressor that had seemed to grow fond of her (for some reason) and that could probably lead his entire kingdom to trample her own if he heard what happened to these soldiers. In other words, a situation where a war could potentially break out between the two territories if she made a small mistake.

No big deal, right?

The leaf she was trying to tear finally came down, but the branch part was too short for them to hold above their heads. Holding back a furious desire to rip it apart and curse some more, she threw it behind her and kept searching.

* * *

The soldiers looked at her struggle from a distance.

"Why do you think she doesn't want to tell us about that creature from earlier?"

"I don't know. Maybe something happened after he tossed her sword?"

"Do you think… she _killed_ him?"

They turned to each other.

"Maybe. That wouldn't be out of character for her."

"But… but she's just a princess. She doesn't really know how to fight, she just fakes it."

"No, I think she really knows."

They turned back to her.

"But… there wasn't any blood on her."

"Maybe that creature doesn't bleed?"

"Come on, that's impossible."

"Yeah… but what else could have happened?"

They held back a laugh when only the leaf snapped under her hands and she threw it away angrily behind her.

"Maybe she fell in love."

The other one turned to his companion, visibly scandalized.

"How can you tell?"

"Come on, you saw it too! She brought her face, like, super-close to his at least once. And she was doing cool poses for him _the whole time_. We don't have any evidence but it's pretty telling, isn't it?"

" _Dude_ … That'd be awesome."


	5. Chapter 5 - Dragonflies

**Chapter 5 – Dragonflies**

All cranked up together under a much-smaller-than-she-thought trillium leaf, they roamed the border in search of a way out. With all that rain, roots and rocks were impossible to climb, and the soil was extremely slippery. Furthermore, the danger of the water on the soldiers' wings restricted their movement by making them captive of the leaf's protection.

Around the middle, the soldier on her right stopped and shushed them softly. He pointed upwards: a darner dragonfly was clinging to a large maple's trunk, not far from the ground. It was covered in blue, red and black water drops and its wings were shaking silently in the wind.

Marianne immediately knew what she had to do. Without thinking, she passed the too-short front branch of the leaf to one of her companions and sneaked under the insect. One hand at a time, she escalated the trunk's crevasses, careful not to scare it away.

Once she got closer to its body, it suddenly seemed to notice her, because it shook the water away and its legs bent to take off. Marianne had just the time to jump on its abdomen before its legs launched it into the air and its wings started buzzing.

The creature lifted her along and spun in wide, clumsy circles, while she climbed its body forcefully. "I'm sorry…little guy," she groaned, adjusting herself to lean on its thorax, between its angry wings. "I promise this'll be over soon. I just need… a bit of help."

She gripped to it until it calmed down, then used the weight of her upper body to guide it back to the soldiers. It surrendered to her commands, but she still sensed a lot of anger in its jerky movements, or at the way it didn't mind its speed at all. She hoped she'd be able to keep control of it until the two fairy men could mount its back.

They stared at her with a wide expression of shock spread across their faces. She didn't have the chance to puff her chest only because the dragonfly initially refused to land, so she had to lay atop its head and block its wings with her arms to keep it on the ground. "Come on, climb on it, now! I'm sorry, you'll have to leave the leaf behind!"

They threw their umbrella aside and ran on its abdomen, right behind her. Under her grip, the dragonfly's struggle intensified. They held on to her back, but she turned her face so she could look at one over her shoulder: "I'll let go. Get ready to jump here."

"What? You're not coming with us?!"

"I wish I could, but it won't be able to lift the three of us. Try to make it carry the two of you out of the forest and as far as possible towards the castle." The dragonfly was pushing harder against her. She used her legs to force it to stay still. "Tell my father _not_ to send people to look for me, okay? Tell him I'll be back as soon as the rain stops, not to worry."

"Okay, but—"

"I'll release it, now. Are you ready?"

"No, wait! I can't fly a–"

"Good luck!"

With that, she jumped next to them, and as she had predicted, the wild dragonfly sprinted up into the air. The soldiers let out a panicked scream but grabbed at it and held on. She looked at them fly away in the wrong direction, draw a large turn back through branches, then zoom over her past the trees at the border, the sound of their yelling following them all the way. She smiled, satisfied.

Now, she could finally rest. She ran to cover herself with the now-much-larger trillium leaf and headed for the heart of the forest, hoping to find a shelter soon and wrap herself in her wings.

Eventually, she found one, not very far from two white mushrooms. Once she had sat down and settled her wings into a wet cocoon around her, she noticed a third one a bit farther up the slope. It had an eye on her.

Wait, what? An eye?

She shook her head slightly and tried to better look under its cap, wondering if she had imagined an eye there. From where she was sitting, it was impossible to make out the details of its stem, so it looked smooth.

She turned her gaze to the other mushrooms that were nearby, but aside from small bulges, they looked just as smooth and faceless, undisturbed by the water sliding down their caps. It must have been her imagination...

Deep in thoughts, it suddenly hit her. It was most likely suppertime already; night was starting to fall. If it didn't stop raining before it turned dark, she'd have to travel almost blindly.

Inside her cocoon, she crossed her fingers, begging the clouds above for a bit of mercy, and suppressed a shiver.

* * *

The Bog King was getting angrier and angrier. The more he went, the less goblins he saw searching around. They would be impossible to miss if he came across them; in the rain, especially in the late hours, they usually carried amber torches. Being entirely indifferent to the rain himself, he could not fathom that they might have grown tired of it.

Well, no matter the reason, he was now devoting much of his focus to the way he'd scold them later. Lack of attention to his route led him unconsciously to the Old Maple tree, the most crowded insect palace that he knew of and inside which he could always sit and not be bothered. A chain of mushrooms circumvented its foot, so he usually hid in the higher leaves to access the branches near the trunk (these damn mushrooms, they repeated absolutely anything and everything they heard and saw).

This time, though, as he was lost in his thoughts, he forgot to use the safe route and noticed the mushrooms _after_ they had noticed him. He was about to sigh, until he saw one was flailing its arms timidly at him. Intrigued but on his guard, he flew down at it and held himself above the ground to hear it.

The mushroom, however, didn't speak. Instead, it pointed in slow movements to a fissure in the Maple's root. It then placed a finger on its lips to silence him, a gesture that made Bog frown in defiance.

He understood the appeal of silence once he peeked at the fissure and saw a purple cocoon in it, wriggling like the person inside was doing something.

Startled, he backed away, out of sight, and as all his anger vanished, he realized how very _unprepared_ he was to see her just yet. (Even though he had been looking for her specifically.)

He wondered what to do for too long. The mushroom was staring at him with a neutral, but judgmental gaze. It made him self-conscious, especially about the fact that he had no idea what to do about not knowing what to do. Should he poke her with his staff and force her to come out and see what happens? Should he give her a start? Or maybe gather some spider web and try to tie her up?

But then, what would he do with another captive? There was a tiny possibility that she had some kind of rank (unless their peasants had started taking up sword fighting?), so they might come looking for her eventually. Which would not be good. Because they had discovered not too long ago that a group of beetle larvae had bored winding tunnels throughout his castle. They'd have to move and until then, it was not the best place to call a fortress.

Or maybe he should sit somewhere and wait until she came out by herself?

No, the mushrooms were watching. They'd speculate and find it worthy of gossip, his worst enemy at the moment.

No choice: he had to move her from there. Faking impeccable self-confidence, he landed not far from her and touched her wing slightly. As was to be expected, she gave a loud start and reached for her sword, a look of surprise on her face. Finally, their eyes met.

She looked horribly tired. He simply couldn't bring himself to be unpleasant anymore.

"You, err…" he began, not loud enough, then cleared his throat. "You have to leave. Now."

She held his gaze a moment longer, then switched to an expression of challenge.

"Make me."

He didn't know exactly what to reply, so she was the one who kept talking.

"I'm just…" She held her hands flat in front of her with a clear annoyance in the way she held her shoulders. "… _so_ done with this rain. There's no way I'm getting out of here until it stops. I've had more than enough. So, no. I'm not leaving right now." Her voice was resolute. "I will as soon as the rain stops, though, I promise."

She then repositioned her arms against herself, her eyes shifting, her sword at her feet and her wings a little closer. Shutting herself down, he realized. It was a wonder she was still alone in this position.

"Well…" He found the words to speak and silently thanked her for starting the conversation. "You don't have much choice. If the goblins see you, or your peer, they won't take the time to ask questions. They'll just tie you up and bring you to my… to the castle."

She glanced at him and puffed a mocking laugh. "I'd like to see them try. If I do get bothered, I'll just fly higher and hide somewhere else."

So she _was_ alone. He let out a smirk. "I'd like to see _you_ try to fly higher." She seemed to be cut off guard because she froze. "I know you can't fly right now, tough girl. Why else would you stay so close to the ground?"

She sighed and threw her hands in the air, dropping her sword next to her. "Okay, yeah, _touchée_. I can't fly." She turned a mean gaze on him and grasped the weapon again. "Doesn't mean I'm _defenseless_ , though."

A sudden laugh escaped him. "I'm aware," he said simply. And he cursed himself for not being able to maintain any kind of threatening stance. _The mushrooms are listening, dammit._

She must have been expecting another kind of response because she seemed surprised. Saying nothing, she sheathed the blade.

The silence was making him immensely uncomfortable, though. He couldn't help fidgeting with his staff. "There's—" She started speaking at the same time: "Aren't you—"

They both laughed to mask the awkwardness. "You first," he offered.

She smiled a pleasant smile, one of sincerity, that took him by surprise. "I was thinking: aren't you cold? You look like you've spent the last hours under this crappy weather."

He hid his hands behind his back and leant a bit forward. "I'm fine, actually." He cursed his higher, faster-than-usual voice. "The rain doesn't bother me at all. It just…" he made a vague gesture at himself. "…slips through me." Before she could say anything back and ask questions about his anatomy, as she was probably about to do, he decided he had to change the subject. "And… I was about to tell you that… there's a knot with a hole, midway up the trunk," he pointed upwards with one hand. "I think a squirrel used to live there. But it's gone now, so…"

She followed his finger with her eyes and visibly considered it, pressing her lips on the side of her cheek. "Thanks. I think I'm gonna look for it."

He watched her step down the crevasse reluctantly and cover her arms with her wings, then turn around and examine the trunk. "That way?" she pointed randomly, upwards.

"No, on the other side," he instructed, taking flight, and before he could offer his help, she started escalating the trunk.

He smiled to himself, heading towards the hole, waiting for her without purposefully waiting for her. Of course she wouldn't ask for help. She'd probably turn it down if he offered, and take it as an affront to her dignity. Best not say anything and wait for her there.

As he turned to watch her climb, his eyes met those of the mushroom that had signalled him of her presence. He froze in mid-flight: it was too late to silence them now. She'd see him go back down and talk to them, and she'd suspect something was going on. Besides, she hadn't acknowledged their presence, so maybe he was lucky and she had no idea what they were and what they did…

He looked at her struggling form instead. Her hands didn't look like they had firm grips on the wet trunk, and her wings were only half-opened, fluttering a bit, like she was trying to keep her balance. She kept her eyes on the trunk, though, avoiding his carefully.

As much as it was endearing, it was also quite reckless. He kept his ground and did not offer her any help. While she almost fell (an eventuality he was very much prepared for) a couple of times, she eventually made it to the squirrel hole and let herself fall against the inside wall with a tired sigh of relief and a quick laugh. "Whew! Now that's what I call an adventure! Have you ever tried not relying on your wings for a whole day?"

"No, never."

"Don't do it. It's just not worth it."

He put his staff against the wall and went to sit near the edge, giving her plenty of space. He could bear to watch her only subtly, in the corner of his eye. Her hair was a mess, her makeup was almost entirely gone, her clothes were sticking to her body and it was just too much for him to stare at openly. What was it that was making him so uncomfortable? Was it the knowledge that there really was nobody but the two of them now? _Ridiculous_ , he thought. He'd been alone with females before. (Because of his mother, most times.) This one was nothing different… right?

She brushed the water over her wings, like she was dusting them, then pulled at her collar. "Thanks for showing me. It feels much better than… _that_ freakin' place. I swear, I was about to become claustrophobic."

He smiled but didn't turn towards her. He just kept staring outside. "No problem. I… come here, sometimes. So... It's only natural, since I knew of it."

She paused behind him. "Oh, really? Well, it's, err… nice. It's a nice place. Very… handy."

"Thank you." He gathered some courage before saying: "It's a… perfect place, to observe the dragonflies. They always gather over there at night." He pointed to another tree, not very far, and when she crawled closer to the border to follow the direction of his finger, he found himself oddly nervous. "They almost always stay in groups when it's raining, because when their eyes are covered in dew, they can't see well around themselves."

He heard her make a long humming laugh and retreat deeper into the hole. "So that's why it was easy."

He couldn't help but turn around to face her. "Easy?"

She averted her eyes to the rain. "I caught one, earlier."

There was no hiding the surprise from his face. "You _caught_ one? You mean, you were able to _ride_ one?"

"Yeah. It was hilarious," she said with an amused smile. "My, err… partner, the other fairy, he didn't know how to fly it, so he almost fell down. He did manage to fly it, though, in the end," she added quickly. "So he's on the other side of the border now. You don't need to look for him anymore. But… it was fun. To see, I mean."

He nodded and turned back. "Yeah… That's an impressive feat, though. Dragonflies are just about the toughest insects to catch. They see everywhere, the front _and_ the back."

She seemed to hesitate. "You seem to know a lot about them."

"What? No, it's just… I observe them." He twisted his hands on his lap. "Never tried to catch one. But I do know they're evasive bastards."

They said nothing for a long moment. The woman wasn't moving; he wondered if she was asleep, but a good part of him didn't dare turn around to look.

"So you say you… come here often?" she asked in a slow voice. "To— To observe the dragonflies?"

He felt he had to calculate his response, but finally opted for the spontaneous answer. "Yeah. Almost every day."

"Almost every day, huh… At night?"

"At dawn. Around daybreak."

"Oh… I see."

There was another long moment of silence until she sighed loudly. "I can't wait to get home…" she confessed. "You know, you don't have to keep me company. I can take care of myself. Oh, unless you're—"

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Hm?"

"You're… probably waiting for the rain to stop, to make sure I head home… aren't you?"

The question hit him like a bullet. Why _was_ he keeping her company, exactly? He could force her through the border; carry her in her arms and throw her on the other side. For some reason, that did not sound like something he'd like to do.

"Err… yeah." He had no idea what else to say.

She didn't add anything, but started fanning her wings, slowly, carefully. "'Better dry these as soon as I can, then…" He glanced at her (her wings looked heavy) but went back to his silent contemplation.

He then hated himself for saying: "The rain's getting weaker."

Behind him, she stopped moving. "You're right…"

He twisted his hands a bit harder, but realized what he was doing and stopped. This moment would not last and he'd have to remember all the small details he could absorb _now_ because it wouldn't happen again. Her voice cut through his disappointment: "It was fun, by the way."

He froze. The spar, perhaps?

"It's been awhile since I've had someone keep up with me."

He cleared his throat. "Really?... M-Me too, sort of."

"Perhaps we could… spar again, sometime. You know, if… you have time."

To his surprise, she then crawled and sat next to him, still fanning her wings. "Yeah, why not…" he responded, daring a look in her direction and meeting her eye.

She smiled again. He returned it and averted his gaze shyly. She leant a bit on her knees, holding her face in both hands. "Say, why do you live here? It's so dark, and there's so little space to fly. And there are… dangerous-looking plants everywhere. Doesn't it get tiresome? Don't you miss the open sky, sometimes?"

He took some time to think, but the response came quite naturally. "The Dark Forest is full of mysteries. You wouldn't believe how many species of insects live here, all around, beneath our feet and above our heads. And with the goblins everywhere… Strange things happen in here."

She turned a bit towards him. Their eyes met again. "Strange things, huh… I think I can imagine."

They held each other's gaze longer than before, both of them smiling nervously. She was the one to break eye contact.

Eventually, night fell and the rain stopped. Her wings were not dry but they had considerably lost water, and she said she felt able to fly. He knew, then, that it was over, so he got up.

"I know this forest by heart," he told her in a low voice, then offered her a hand. "I can guide you."

She got up with him and stared into his eyes, never looking at his outstretched hand. To his surprise, though, she smiled and took it softly, like a whisper. He closed his fingers on hers, careful to give her enough space so she could let go if she wanted.

He led the way, successfully not hitting any trees or branches until they arrived at the border. She didn't let go of his hand until they were in front of the trees, with the same gentleness as before.

"Thank you," she said in a soft voice.

"You're welcome." They smiled at each other one more time, and she left without turning around. He waited until she was completely out of sight before heading back to the castle. The forest suddenly felt empty.

As he glided home, time stood still. Everything was beautifully right and painfully wrong. He'd never see her again and he had to accept that fact, he told himself. Or perhaps he'd see her again, but by then, she'd have realized who he was, and understand he was her enemy. There would be no more soft-spoken words between them, no conversations about the Dark Forest or the dragonflies, and no warm smile. When she'd be back, it would be in her combat attire, dark makeup on point, wings propelling her in purple rays of light through the sun. If they ever met, the tip of her sword would fly to his throat again and he'd have to be intimidating for her.

When he arrived home, Stuff tried to greet him: "Welcome back, Sire. Message from the mushrooms—"

"I don't want to hear it," he cringed. They had probably said things about him and the fairy, and everybody had certainly heard already. "Remind me later."

He slumped on his throne, never letting go of his staff. "Tell everyone the fairies are gone and the Forest is safe. And leave me alone."

"Yes, Sire."


	6. Chapter 6 - Uncertainties

_Went and bought myself a language correction software. Hopefully it'll make a difference! :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 6—Uncertainties**

Marianne dropped to the ground as soon as she could, shrugging off some dirt from the leaves impatiently. The pull of her damp wings, while not as bad as it was under the direct rain, still strained at her back and she was more than tired of it.

She landed with pain in her shoulders and a laugh on her lips. The laugh grew until it became an actual burst of voice. "So… you think I don't know who you are, eh?"

He'd presumed she hadn't noticed the way he had been about to say, ' _my_ castle.'

"Joke's on you! _Your Majesty._ "

But then, her amusement slowly evaporated. Now she knew: he was a king, she was a princess, and both their kingdoms were in opposition. She wasn't to see him again. It would throw hers into chaos if it were discovered.

Behind her, a familiar "thump" coming from the forest cut her short in her internal argument. Then another one, and another one. She froze, listening to the sound as it got closer.

Frogs. Heading home. Maybe she could use one to move faster.

She squinted to discern their green silhouettes in the dark and tried to calculate where one would land. With that limited knowledge in mind, she went to stand experimentally with her arms spread, wincing and ready for a slam. A large bullfrog was effectively surprised into a stop in front of her. Before it could hop away, she grabbed at its shoulders and climbed on its back. Its skin was cold and wet under her hands; she couldn't keep herself from grimacing in disgust. Though not trying to shake itself free, the creature looked at her with one very confused eye.

"Sorry, don't mind me. I'm just in a terrible state and would appreciate a little help in going that direction. By all means, do continue hopping."

It didn't seem to care. Either way, she felt its muscles contracting between her calves, and it dashed forward in the night, in a movement so sudden she almost lost her grip. As it landed, it took her every bit of focus she had left not to fall over its head. At least, the animal's skin was covered in tiny bumps, so it made it slightly easier for her to cling. The bones of its hind legs gave it two humps that she could use as a seat, too.

After the fourth hop, she started to have confidence. And fun; it was more fun than she'd have thought. The wind was a bit cold on her wet clothes and not seeing very far in front of them was somewhat distressing, but the velocity was making her heart beat pleasantly. The plants threatened to cut her face with their leaves so she lowered her head as close to the amphibian's body as possible. Good thing frogs and toads were a friendly kind.

Apparently, her mount was following a route on the ground. There was a broken-down pave under a thin layer of dirt that the rain had disturbed. Where it led to, she wondered.

She suddenly realized they were heading for a little swamp and the animal was not waiting at all for her to notice before diving. She jumped from its back (and slipped in the dark mud) just in time to avoid being thrown along into the murky water. Muttering a quick "Thanks!" to the ripples it left behind, she wiped her legs and her hands together and kept going on foot.

On the other side of the swamp, the pave continued, but she quickly lost track of it under the plants, dirt and overall poor lighting conditions. It seemed to go straight towards the fairy castle.

"That's weird," she thought aloud. "A forgotten route to the Dark Forest. I didn't even know we had routes outside the village at all. A day full of surprises indeed…"

After some more walk, she arrived at the village's gates, down the hill. Her feet were soaking wet. Nothing would distract her from the way to her bath anymore.

Except, maybe, for the Elf guarding the entrance that frowned when their eyes met. Or the few ones that were sitting around a fire behind a house, near the path she was taking—when they saw her, they cast her an angry, contemptuous look that she was not expecting. She held their gaze as she walked by them but didn't stop nor say anything. Higher up the hill, two female elves also stopped when they noticed her, and stared down at her with disdain. It was confusing, to say the least.

She passed the doors to the castle. The alley was empty, with no guards standing by the stairs, fuelling her fear that a good portion of their army was out of commission. Her sprites came to greet her, making happy circles around her and making gagging noises at her clothes. Marianne was not in a state of mind to do anything but ignore them.

One soldier was sitting inside the front hall, glowering at his feet. When he raised his head and saw her, a look of relief washed over his face and he kneeled: "Princess Marianne! Oh, it's so good to see you! Are you alright?"

She suddenly became very self-conscious: wet clothes covered in mud, damp hair probably standing in all directions, makeup completely run down, wings still dark from the water... "Yes, thank you. Is my father asleep?"

"Yes, but he ordered me to wake him if I saw you arrive home."

"Okay. Tell him I'm fine, and not to ask to see me until morning. Under no circumstances."

"I will, your Highness."

She took a step towards the central stairs leading to the back of the castle, where her chambers were, but her legs refused to carry her further until she asked the question. "How are… the other soldiers?"

The male fairy's expression became sombre again. He lowered his chin and his bronze helmet hid a part of his face. "Not… Not well, your Highness. Many are hospitalized at the moment. Princess Dawn included. We're not sure what's causing their sudden… disease."

Even Dawn, huh. Not surprising but still painful to hear. "It's their wings, isn't it? It's because of the powder."

He nodded silently, not meeting her eye.

"And you, soldier? Are you alright?"

"Me? Yes, thank you… It would be a lie to say I'm not—but I'm scared."

"You shouldn't be. Don't worry, we'll fix this mess."

He looked at her with a small smile and hope in his eyes. "Yes. Those that have not yet been infected trust you. So… they'll be happy to know you are home at last."

Such sincere words were pleasing to hear, but at the same time, she felt it as a huge burden on her shoulders. Indeed, it fell into her hands to correct her family's mistake. By letting them go along with it, she was equally guilty. "What about those that are infected?"

"Some of them trust you too, but some others are mad. I don't think it's a good idea to see them, like… in the near future."

"Okay. Oh and, what about the soldiers that were in the Dark Forest? Did they arrive safely?"

His smile came back slightly. "Yes, they're being taken care of. They were in a pretty bad state, though."

"How bad?"

"Their wings were almost completely black. I saw them myself when they passed through here… They're the most seriously afflicted right now."

She winced and turned her head, feeling shame that she couldn't quite explain.

"But your Highness, they said you were heroic. Is it true that you caught a dragonfly so they could escape the Dark Forest?"

There was clear admiration in his voice. If he knew she went as far as riding a frog… "Well, yeah… Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Wow! It was true then. You're incredible, Princess. Despite their, err… their condition, they had only good words for you. They told us a million times how grateful they were."

"Thank you, but… really, it's not that big of a deal. I couldn't even save their wings, so I was more a carrier than a saviour." Before he could add anything, she started climbing the stairs. The soldier followed her, since her father's chambers were in the same direction. "Anyway, we'll get this mess sorted out somehow, so don't panic, alright?"

"Okay. Thank you, Princess."

They went their separate ways around the centre of the back cliff. She wished him a good night, reminded him of her message to the king and promptly crossed the corridor to hide in her room and lock the door.

The call of her bed had never been quite so fetching. There it stood, suspended in the middle of the room, waiting for her to crash on it and not rise until next week.

But she wouldn't be able to sleep knowing she was this dirty. With the greatest sigh of exasperation yet, she turned back and unlocked the door.

Last effort, she thought to herself as she closed the bathroom door behind her sprites. Clear water first, then peace and blissfulness. Never in her life had she shed her clothes this forcefully while the little creatures busied themselves on the tub to summon warm water. Her body was numb, like she had forgotten what warmth felt like.

While she waited for the bath to grow a bit fuller than usual, her thoughts drifted to the King of the Dark Forest, to his rough voice, to his slenderness, to the nimbleness of his wings. What was his real name, again? She'd have to ask her father—after enquiring about the soldiers, obviously.

Now, all the fun surrounding him had died in her mind. Her heart had gone as cold as the November mist, and everything was being put into question in her head.

There had definitely been chemistry between them—she had made small talk to him like no guy had inspired her to before. She had then asked if he visited that spot often, to which, of course, he had replied with a very precise time of day: around daybreak. Clearly, an invitation.

In turn, by pretending that she had no idea who he was, she had gone as far as offering to spar, but… he'd looked happy. He had even made her forget the disaster her appearance was—any fairy would have made fun of her interminably. She had hoped there was a connection.

It all made sense now. She'd been tricked into thinking so. While she was tempted for sure to go look for his clear blue eyes and his stern gracefulness, it was undoubtedly what he wanted her to do.

…Then again. What did that change?

So, there was a bit of attraction on her part. So sue her! There wasn't any on his side, fine. Why was that supposed to keep her from having fun? He was a rare respectful opponent. While on enemy territory, she had felt truly on a par with him. If she had a foolproof device to make sure she was never captured, and she never divulged a single thing about the kingdom, she had nothing to lose, right?

Before kneeling in the half-full tub, she was very careful not to look at the mirror.

* * *

"It was not about the fairies in the Dark Forest. That's the only hint I can give you."

"It was not? So, it was about… the king _and_ the fairies in the Dark Forest?"

"No! The fairies in the Dark Forest were not a part of the message. It wasn't about them, and it has nothing to do with them."

"Oh, it's about the fairies outside of the Dark Forest, then!"

"I told you, I won't give you two hints. Just one."

"But… how am I supposed to know what it is if that's all you'll tell me?"

"Because you're not _supposed_ to know yet! We'll tell the king together when he agrees to see us. Until then, we have to keep it a secret."

"Oh, Stuff, you're such a good person! Don't worry, I can help you!"

"What? Help me for what?"

"Keep it a secret. I'll protect it with you! If there are two of us guarding it, we have twice the power to keep it for ourselves!"

"Err… no, I don't think that's how it works."

"Come on! I didn't even know there had been a message after he'd left. If I'd seen the mushroom make a sign, I'd have gone with you. I have just as much a right to the message as you do, you know!"

"What about the ladybug's affair, last summer, then?"

"What? What about them?"

"You kept the message to yourself for a whole day."

"It was embarrassing! They'd asked _me_ to tell the king about their undying lord… or something like that."

"You mean, their undying _love._ "

"Right, their love. Right."

"No matter what I said, you refused to tell me about it. And look where that got you."

"It was just a little nudge."

"He pushed you down the bridge."

"There's a river underneath, it wasn't that bad."

"It took you three hours to climb back."

"These soft hands certainly learned from their experience."

"If you'd told me, I'd have helped you with the exactitude."

"But to the ladybugs, it was totally embarrassing! They had lost a bet, remember? I was _absolutely_ unable to tell you, so what's your point?"

"Well, now, it's important. The king should be the one to decide who knows and who doesn't."

"But you said you were going to tell me about it right before he knows."

"What? No, I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did. You said we'd tell him _together_."

"Uh… Yeah, we'll be together when I say it. So what?"

"Well, don't you think I have to _practice_ before the big moment?"

"Practice what?"

"The tone of my voice. Ahem. I'm trying to broaden its reach."

"Really? But your voice already carries very well."

"Thank you. I still have trouble with rasanity, though."

"You mean, nasality."

"Yeah, yeah, that."

Stuff sighed and stopped swinging their legs on their chair.

"Okay, I'll tell you, but only if you let _me_ tell him."

"Sure! No problem!"

Thang almost bounced on his chair. Stuff made sure no one in this crowded communal room was listening and bent towards their colleague.

"The whole fairy army is sick."

"Oh, sick? All of them?"

They shushed the smaller creature, slightly annoyed.

"Yeah. It can't be good."

"No, it can't. The king's going to be heartbroken. What if something happens to his secret love?"

An aardvark, sitting at the table right behind them, poked Stuff on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but what are you talking about?"

Thang was the fastest to react: "The king has made a secret love."

"He's not _in love_ ," Stuff intervened, "he just really wants to keep his meeting with her a secret. We don't know for sure how he feels about her."

"So… the king has a secret love, then?" the aardvark repeated at Thang, their wet nose sniffing the air happily and round eyes glittering with mischief. "Why else would he not want us to see him with her?"

"Hey, are you talking about the king's meeting with a fairy?" an elf-bird sitting nearby chipped in. "'Cause I saw them, I was there!"

"No way!" the aardvark turned to him. "What did they do together?"

"They fought. For a long time. It was almost _cute_."

Both burst out laughing loudly. A few goblins glanced at them over their food.

"The no-love king is in love!"

The story crossed the room a few times, until everybody had heard a version of it. The aardvark eventually returned his attention to Stuff and Thang. "Wait, you said he was going to be heartbroken? Why?"

A few goblins turned to them. Thang smiled: "Because his lover's kingdom has no army right now. She's toast!"

A heavy silence slowly descended upon the room as all the goblins paid their full attention to him.

Stuff slapped a hand to their forehead—if they had a thousand foreheads and a thousand hands, they'd have slapped them all together.


	7. Chapter 7 - Hearsay

**Chapter 7 – Hearsay**

For Marianne, the next morning started on a good, normal note, albeit under an aggressive rain a little bit later.

And then, the tomatoes happened. They caught her by surprise while she was dressing.

She stared at the mess, freezing over the fact that there were four watery tomatoes on the floor, and actively trying to remember whether they had been there the day before. The pink sprite, who most often wiped the floors, let out an outraged squeak.

Marianne put on the first pieces that she could find and went straight to the edge of the window. Immediately, another tomato graced her unit, though this time, it splattered on the wall next to her. The probable cause: the five elves standing under a hydrangea leaf, on a protrusion in the rock and surrounding a small basket.

"Good morning," she snarled. "May I ask what the honour is?"

"Oh, nothing, we just felt generous!"

She got ready to punch the next one back at them, but it hit the wall again. It looked like they had thrown them all because an elf lifted the basket and they all started to head down for the village.

"Seriously, though, what the _fuck_?" she pleaded, shocked.

"We thought you'd be hungry, what with the market closed and everything," a woman yelled lazily over her shoulder.

Then, it all clicked into place.

The army. Campfires, angry looks, silence. The market was closed—they were shutting the fairies away.

She changed her clothes as fast as she could while her sprites tried to work on her makeup. Sensing their mistress's agitation, they stayed in her room when she ran into the corridor.

Marianne opened her father's chamber doors in a bang. Not there. Unable to close them softly, she hurried to the family dining room.

Not there either.

She gave a few tentative flutters of her wings to make sure they had dried, then resumed her pace to his library. On her way, she crossed paths with one of the fairy cooks. The slender man froze when he saw her and shyly lifted a finger upward, hoping to get her attention but not daring to address her first. Recognizing the effort, Marianne stopped. "Yes?"

"Uh… Your Highness, are you, by any chance, looking for the king?"

"Yes. Is he there?" She pointed to the corner.

"You… may not be able to see him right away. He has locked himself up this morning."

"Oh, don't worry, he will see me."

"He said he didn't—"

"He _will_ see me. Trust me." She smiled wickedly. "Thank you for your concern, though."

"There's also the possibility that he flew out the window and is not there anymore, because there was no answer when I knocked."

"We'll find out soon enough, then. Good day."

"Uh, yes. Good day, Princess."

Heading to the library, she couldn't help the crooked smile on her face. "Oh yes, the happy creator of this situation _is_ going to talk." She slammed both hands on the horizontal knobs but they stayed in place.

Locked.

Instead, she knocked aggressively. "Dad! Are you in there? If you are, let me in right now."

There was no answer. She pressed her ear to the door. The shuffling of clothes. Silly man…

"I said _now_."

Still no answer. She waited for a long minute, then walked away, making as much noise as she could so it sounded like she was stomping away angrily. When she was far enough, she lifted herself in the air and glided back without a sound.

Sure enough, there was a click and one door opened slowly. Silly, silly man.

Her father's face peaked between them. She greeted it with crossed arms and an unimpressed frown.

"Good morning, Dad."

"Ah—G—Good morning, Marianne. It's—It's good to see you're doing well, but right now, I need some time, so… please, if you'll excuse me."

He closed the door before she could throw herself at them. He locked it immediately; she didn't believe his audacity.

"Dad, no! What are you doing? Open up!" She knocked again. "We need to talk _now_! We don't have time to… to… lock ourselves from the world and drown in misery, we need to _think_ and _act_!" When he ignored her, she took a deep breath and added: "I'm here to help, not to make you feel guilty, I promise. We're in this together. Let me in."

There was only silence at first, but eventually, the door clicked open and the king let her in, avoiding her gaze. "I'm not drowning in misery. I'm just… perturbed."

She waited until he had closed them again behind her to speak. "At least you're aware how serious this has become."

He went to sit behind his office, four opened books lying on the table. He was holding his head with his hand over them. "I'm trying to find food, but there's no data about the land and I don't understand how we've never drawn a detailed, precise map of the kingdom before."

"Yeah, that's probably something we should do. For now, if you want food, I had some tomatoes thrown inside my room earlier."

He chuckled lightly. "The elves, I assume?"

"Yep. They said they were feeling generous. So, the market is closed? Fairies can't access elven food anymore?"

The man grinded his teeth. "The nerve of them, I swear… Don't worry, my dear, we'll get them later, for the tomatoes."

"Nah, best to forget about it. I don't think antagonizing them would help anything." She stood by the window, looking down on the village. There seemed to be more activity than usual in the small streets. "So? They closed us off, eh?"

"Yes. The cooks were met with scorn and mockery when they went to get fruits this morning. Of course, they came back empty-handed."

"Probably a little bit traumatized, too. Hehe. Those elves, uncensored…"

"Yeah. Anyway, we're on our own, now. If only I knew where the crops are…"

She turned to him. "No, no, we can't venture on _their_ crops. That'll make everything worse."

"Who cares? This is all _our_ territory, and we let them stay here and we protect them _at a price_. We can still go anywhere we want."

"Oh, really? And we can push them away from our land if they stop paying rent, or if they decide they want a rebellion?"

"Yes, we can."

"You, me… and what army?"

Defeated, he sighed. "Right. There is only a third of the army standing right now…"

She returned to staring down at the village. "You can't blame them for being angry, Dad. They trusted us and we failed them."

He suddenly lifted his head at her, like something had slapped him. "By the way, what happened, yesterday? Into the Dark Forest? How were you able to bring those two soldiers home? They were in a horrible state. We don't know if they'll fly again."

"Yeah, I did my best to protect their wings, but they had to cross the border somehow, before someone saw them. And it's difficult to carry a leaf when you're riding a wild dragonfly…"

He didn't seem to understand what she was saying. "Oh well, it was a small sacrifice to make."

She met his gaze, feeling indignant. "What do you mean, a small sacrifice? We don't even know if they'll ever fly again, isn't that what you said. How is that small? _I_ wasn't able to fly for a few hours because I was wet, and I hated every minute of it."

"If someone knew of our condition, it'd be disastrous. We have never been so vulnerable. It's a matter of protecting the rest of the fairies."

"Well, I don't think anyone knows. Don't worry, Dad, nobody saw us." She turned back to the window. She never lied to her father (not since becoming a responsible adult, that is), but this time only, she decided to forgive herself. He didn't need to be anymore stressed than he already was… and she had the situation under control.

"That's good. That's… really good. It'd be so bad, _so_ bad…"

"It's okay, we're safe. Really, as far as I know, and as far as _they_ know, nobody saw them."

Unless there was someone who spotted them while they were flying a wide circle, she thought. But no, even then, it didn't matter; the dragonfly was so fast they wouldn't have time to notice something was aloof with their wings. And the King of the Dark Forest had believed her when she'd said her "companion" had left… which was odd, now that she thought about it. Also, what was his name again?

"What do we do now?" Her father asked before she could.

Marianne took a deep breath to energize herself. "First of all, I think we have to talk to the elves. We have to convince them, somehow, that we can still protect them, regardless of whether we can or not in reality, because we need them on our side. Remember: until now, they've depended on us for their protection, so they have no weapons and they can't fight. As long as they provide us with food, we'll have more time to spend nursing the sick back to health, and they need to understand that it's in their advantage that we do."

A loud knock both made them jump. The king tiptoed to the door uncertainly. As soon as he peeked outside, he opened them wide and greeted the person with spread arms. "Roland! What excellent timing!"

Marianne gasped.

"Your Majesty," he bowed dramatically, "you know what they say: great minds think alike. I heard your call, now here I am, at your service."

"We don't need you, or your help, Roland. Go aw—"

"You should let _me_ talk to the elves, your Majesty," he continued, entering the room and ignoring her. "They respect both you and me as authority figures."

The king closed the door behind him. "Yes. They do."

"Well, they respect you especially, of course," he added with a chuckle, "but right now, they don't know who to turn to. And since I'm a… neutral giver of commands, they'll probably listen to me more—once again, Sir, no offence. How about it?"

"Wait a minute," Marianne protested. "Were you eavesdropping—"

"Excellent idea, Roland," her father interrupted. "I'm counting on you. Let me know how it goes."

"What?! Dad, you're not going to let _him_ sort through this mess in our name, are you?" she pleaded. "He's only going to cause us more trouble, we can't—"

"Yes, my dear, he is going to help us, and I don't want to hear a single word about it." She wanted to object but he didn't let her speak. "You are my daughter; you are associated with me. They won't listen to you anymore than they'll listen to me, and anything you'll do will turn against you, no matter how hard you try. Roland is the only one they truly look up to besides us. Let us trust this matter into his hands. If, like you say, nobody in the Dark Forest knows about our soldiers, then, like you say, we have nothing else to worry about."

Marianne felt herself reach the point of no return. "Seriously, manterrupting _and_ bropropriating?" They both stared at her like she had spoken a different language. She threw her arms in the air. "Fine! Listen to _him_ over listening to _me_. Suit yourself!" She headed for the doors.

"Wait, Marianne," her father said. "You know this isn't anything personal. I'm just trying to be strategic."

"None of _his_ strategies have led us very far until now, or am I mistaken?" She turned around, her face hot. "Well, Roland, what's your plan?"

"I'm going to convince them that we can still protect them. That giving us food is an investment for their safety."

She felt ready to physically grab his collar and toss him out the window, but the king cut the idea short. "See, Marianne? He's already thought this through. He'll do just fine."

"Pfff, that's nonsense. We need someone _reliable_. The choice he made _on my wedding day_ is proof enough that he isn't."

Roland winced. "Oh, sweet plum, we both know that was just a misunderstanding. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"Not make a big deal?!" She pointed her finger menacingly at his chest. "You have a lot of nerves—"

"Now, Marianne," the king said on a scolding tone, "this is why Roland has to be the one to take care of this. He's neutral; he has nothing to lose and, therefore, has a clearer mind. Listen to yourself; you're saying that because you have a grudge. You're not being objective."

She turned to him, feeling betrayed. "Excuse me? What does that have to do with the elves? Are you saying I'm unable to keep my calm when I need to?" She held his gaze, defiant. "Are you saying I let my emotions guide my every decision?"

"No, I'm saying your emotionscould influence your ideas in a way that we will regret later... like what we saw at the wedding."

She was astounded, speechless. Once again, she raised both her hands in defeat and went back to the exit. "Fine. Well, what can I do about it? Go ahead, listen to him. Good luck, Dad."

On the other side, a hand on the handle, she stopped. "Also, I'd like you to ask yourself a question tonight, in your head. Ask yourself: if I had been a _man_ , would you have talked over me so much, and would you have doubted me so? I don't want to know the answer, but I want you to be very honest with yourself. And if the answer is 'yes' to one or both these questions, then you know what aspect of yourself you have to work on next."

She closed the door softly and left, rage boiling but successfully contained, as if making a point.

* * *

So, the fairy army had been targeted by someone, and now they were sick and defenseless.

That was a good explanation for her friendliness. Not wanting him to look for her companions, which had probably been affected soldiers, she had occupied his time with pleasantries. Clever girl.

And… after careful consideration, he found that he absolutely understood. She had been in a position of extreme weakness, both for herself (wings wet, unable to fly) and for the security of her kingdom. She had played him, and it was all in good game. (Her offer to see him again had most likely been part of the act, then.) In fact, it made him respect her even more. She had found the way to be polite and almost flirtatious with the monster he knew he looked like. She had summoned that kind of courage for her kingdom. That meant she was probably a soldier herself, or at least a warrior–her armour suggested so.

At the same time, his very slim hope for a refreshing new relationship was out the window. And that was a bit more difficult to accept.

Bog stopped removing the dirt out of his staff. There were voices coming from beyond the bridge. More than usual; and louder. He rubbed his hands in a quick motion and flew ahead, weapon in front of himself.

Indeed, there were about two dozen goblins of all races, walking in a crowd from the heart of the forest toward the castle. He landed in front of them, past the badger's jaw, and waited for them to speak. Stuff and Thang hurried to his side–they had heard as well.

He stood there, and the goblins stood in front of him, but their loud voices and laughs were impervious to their monarch's threatening stare. It was as if they hadn't noticed him yet.

"Excuse me," Bog thundered, "do you know where you are?" Silence fell on the crowd at once.

"Your Majesty," an elf-bird started, distancing himself from the others, "it's that time of the year again. The western Squash plant has given a fruit. We require your authorization to collect a part of it."

"Squash? Since when do any of you like squash?"

"Oh, we like them, your Majesty. We just never had a seed. Don't worry, we'll offer something else to the fairies in exchange!"

Bog paused, then rubbed his eyes to fake tiredness. If a single goblin knew of the fairy army and ventured into their territory, they'd probably abuse the situation to bring home more food. It was entirely too likely and he couldn't let that happen.

"So you want to know if I can call on more goblins to bring squash chunks from the Fairy Kingdom," he concluded.

Thinking that their king understood their wish, the goblins whispered excitedly to each other, feet shuffling.

"Well, you are all a bunch of _idiots_ for asking," Bog replied in a powerful snarl that brought them all back to a stunned silence.

He planted his staff next to him and deployed his wings sharply. They followed his movements with wide eyes. "The fairies aren't going to share anything with us. In fact, they're going to be _cruel_ to you. Do you remember what happened to the squirrel?"

They exchanged confused stares. He thought they would change their mind, but a few voices rose above just audibly. "Why is he lying?" "Doesn't he know?" "What kind of king says no to free food?" They grew restless and whispered together more and more.

A dragon-toad was daring enough to step forward, their round throat bobbing nervously. "Sir… The fairies can't do anything right now." Bog froze. "And we haven't had new flavours in forever. It's now or never. Don't you know?"

He pivoted his head to that goblin and slowly approached him. "Are you accusing me of something?"

The dragon-toad quivered. The voice of a troll rose: "It's because he's in love with one."

Most of the crowd turned toward the guilty creature, in the far back, who visibly tried to make himself smaller.

Bog couldn't believe it. Not only were they aware of the situation, the gossip about him and the woman had also travelled to the centre of the forest.

"What you have heard are false rumours," he stated between his teeth, and they turned back to him with a terrorized look on their faces. "All of them. By crossing the border, you're putting the other goblins and trolls in danger of retaliation. Do I have to remind you what happened to the poor squirrel and her baby that lived in the Old Maple tree? If I hear a _single_ one of you has entered the Fairy Kingdom, I will fetch them myself. Am I being clear?" He stepped closer to them, so they backed away slightly. "And that person will not be going home to their family—rather, they'll be going straight to the dungeon." They didn't react. "Understood?"

They exchanged confused stares.

"And if someone doesn't agree with me," he roared, "I can give them a private tour of their future chambers right away!"

They ran around in a chaotic mass of bodies. Most went back to the centre of the forest, shooting an eye at him over their shoulders.

He waited until they had all disappeared before he stared down at Thang. "So? Feeling talkative, are we?" Thang jumped and met his eyes, quivering as well.

The monarch turned to Stuff, who firmly stood their position. "Unless it was you?"

"Err… Some of them must have heard the mushrooms, Sire," they responded, almost stuttering but not quite.

It was just past sunrise; the light over him was turning a light grey and it reminded him of how sleepy he was. He pinched the space between his eyes.

"I swear: if anything complicated happens, I'm holding you two responsible for all of it, and I will _not_ be happy."

* * *

～ _The phrase "Excuse me, do you know where you are?" is a reference to the 1976 French movie "The Twelve Tasks of Asterix" (Les 12 travaux d'Astérix), when Cesar asks the overly enthusiastic Gauls to be quiet so he can make his self-important speech («Dites, vous savez où vous êtes?»). The movie – and the comic book series_ _– is a classic in French Canadian culture, but I have no idea how well-known it is outside of France, Canada and Belgium. If you haven't heard of it, I suggest you take a look: it's really entertaining!_


	8. Chapter 8 - Raid

**Chapter 8 — Raid**

On the following morning, the king was very pleased. Roland had agreed to deliver a speech to the elves right away. The perspicacity of that man, and his ability to quickly adapt to a new situation—they never ceased to amaze him. No matter how difficult or delicate a task, his fantastic General was always ready to spring into action, and that was just the kind of person he needed to calm his anxious moods and his tendencies to doubt everything.

The speech had been announced the day before throughout the village. As the sun was just rising above the horizon, people walked the streets here and there, some watching a few soldiers that were arranging an improvised stage for their leader.

It would take place down the rocky hill, near the stairs leading to the castle gates. Roland had suggested the king stay out of sight during the event, so his own neutrality would not be questioned immediately. The monarch, however, couldn't bear missing anything—he absolutely _needed_ to know the elves' reaction, he needed to _witness_ it, his heart craved it, so he cloaked himself in a cape the colour of the rock and kneeled behind the bars of a hidden balcony, just close enough so he would be within earshot.

A pair of soldiers blew a horn, signalling the imminent event. The elves gathered in front of the stage in response.

"Elves!" Roland proclaimed as he climbed up the ladder. A tight silence fell on the small crowd. "My friends! Thank you for taking your precious time this morning to listen to this _urgent_ announcement. I'm so glad to see you all here today, and wow! What a week we're having, am I right?"

The king tried to position himself more comfortably. He sat cross-legged on the hard floor instead of kneeling. The elves weren't showing a lot of enthusiasm, as far as he could see. Some of them even looked mad.

"So, first of all, as you may have noticed, there's been a _slight_ problem with the colouration of our soldiers' wings. Now, while their ability to fly has been temporarily compromised, I wanted you to know a few things, to clear some things up with you about their health."

He cleared his throat. The king couldn't help the nervous flutter of his wings.

"They are doing _great_. For the moment, they are receiving treatment, but the doctors said they would only be out of commission out of precaution, for approximately four more days. At most."

The king jumped. Four days? He didn't remember the doctors giving such a precise timeframe, nor saying they would be fine. They'd said they had no idea when the men and women would be back on their feet … well, on their wings.

"So that," Roland continued with a why-so-serious kind of laugh, "is probably a much quicker recovery than what you were expecting! Worry not, my friends, everything is under control!"

The crowd murmured. The elves still didn't look happy.

"It also means that they will be back on the job very soon, and with absolutely _beautiful_ wings for you to admire. In the meantime, I would like you to carry on with your daily activities. Rest assured that nothing has changed: you are still safe and protected, since a good portion of our soldiers were unaffected by this condition. Even the border is guarded, as usual! Now, about the food market…"

The murmurs grew. Some were watching him intently.

"We were very sad to see you close yourselves to us yesterday. But, you know, we understand. You thought we would be unable to fulfill our ancestral duty to you. For that, you have every right to be cautious, and you most certainly don't want the fruit of your hard labour to go to waste. It's perfectly understandable. But surely, you must be aware that keeping this stance puts in more harm than it does you good."

Angry voices rose. They became agitated; a few stood up. "There are no soldiers around anymore!" yelled a man. "How many are sick, exactly? There's no reason for us to keep you as our rulers if you can't guarantee us basic safety!"

Roland rocked on his feet and passed a hand through his hair. "I know, that makes absolute sense. But, like I said, we are still able to protect you, and the kingdom still functions normally. Nothing has changed."

"How many are sick?" a woman repeated.

"A few of them have been affected, but this is a temporary situation. It will not last. Even now, most of the soldiers that are not on duty are only being examined to prevent the condition from developing on them … in other words, as a means of prevention."

"A good portion, so that's, what, half?"

"Worry not about the numbers. We don't know them ourselves. All that matters is that most soldiers are able to go back into the streets for you and patrol the border as soon as today. That is, if we can expect their basic needs to be met."

Murmurs died down. "Their basic needs?" a man asked from near the stage.

Roland smirked. "The market. With no food to go by, how can we expect these soldiers to spend their time working, and not trying to find themselves something to eat? It's only fair, don't you think?"

The crowd was surprisingly silent. Roland waited a moment before continuing. "I want you to remember something: we have an unpredictable neighbour." He let himself fall off the stage with a flutter and walked among the elves and the few other small creatures that had joined, his hands behind his back. They all moved aside from his path. "They are monsters. Barbaric, cruel, uncaring. But most importantly, they are _territorial_."

All eyes were fixed on him. His voice seemed to hypnotize them. "They may or may not be aware of our little … _situation_. We have no way to know. If, however, they _were_ to know—and rest assured we are doing _everything_ in our power to keep this all a closely guarded secret—they might come here and test us! See if we truly are defenseless." He became grave. "See if there isn't anything they could take home with them. Food. Clothes. Tools. _Children to raise as their own_."

There were gasps everywhere. All children that were within the crowd were hugged tightly by surrounding adults. Even from where he sat, the king could see their panicked expressions.

" _Now._ I am not saying we should expect such a dramatic event to take place—no, in fact, I don't think we'll see them anytime soon. But we have to stay on guard!"

"But weren't there two soldiers that were trapped in the Dark Forest two days ago?" the high-pitched voice of a dwarf man asked. "What if they know? What if we _do_ get attacked? Will you be able to defend us?"

"Worry not, good people. After all, a third of the army is entirely untouched and ready to fight for you!"

"What? A _third_? That means two thirds are sick! People, do you hear that?"

Agitation rose again. Voices grew louder. The tiny, hairy man crossed his restless peers and escalated the stage. As he stood proudly on Roland's place, everybody turned to him.

"Two thirds, people," he continued. "They're taking us for idiots. What if, like he says, the Dark Forest knew of this? What if we _do_ get attacked? We'll need to take cover in our homes, maybe even lock ourselves up until they leave. We need to keep our food for ourselves in case we spend a day or more inside! The fairies say they're functional; well, I'd like to see them defend themselves before worrying about us. We can take care of each other, am I right?"

The elves cheered with an impetus. Roland looked stunned by the commotion for a while, but he quickly went to join the dwarf on stage. "People, people. Who are you kidding?"

They calmed down and listened to him. The king grew nervous. Could his General really prevent a rebellion at this point?

"Who are you kidding, people?" he continued when the crowd turned quiet. "What do you have to defend yourselves? Let's face it: you're even _more_ _defenseless_ than we fairies are. Sure, you could lock yourselves up in your homes in case of attack—then what? Your homes aren't made of rock. They can be taken down, or burned. Even if the fairy army is a little bit reduced at the moment, what are the chances that we get invaded today? The soldiers are coming back one after the other. In four days, most of them will be cured. That's a very short timeframe, is it not? For you, it's just a matter of being _patient_!"

"Here's the deal, then," the dwarf continued, "get all the soldiers back. _Then_ we'll open the market."

Roland chuckled mockingly, placing a hand on his forehead, another on his hip. "If that is your wish. But … with no food, you have to understand we can't guard you at all. You're telling me you prefer having _zero_ protection over having _close-to-normal_ protection?"

"A third is not normal. A third is small."

"Not as small as _you all_!" Roland turned dramatically to their audience. "Seriously, what can you do by yourselves? Even in this state, we are stronger than you. Also, don't you wonder … how yesterday, we didn't come _looking_ for the food ourselves? How we didn't attack your fields, your stocks? You know why that is?" He waited, stared at them with a somewhat condescending look. "You don't know? I'll tell you. It's because we _care_. We _value_ our relationship with you. _You_ need us as much as we need _you_ —but seriously, you really need us."

Everybody, even the dwarf, were stunned and exchanged more worried glances. Nonetheless, the tiny leader quickly regained his composure. "I say no! I say, you're asking us to pretend nothing's wrong. And that's a big no-no. We can't let your … your foolish decision go unpunished! What if you make another one, eh? You won't ever learn your lesson!"

Roland puffed his chest and looked like he was about to yell at him, but instead, he slapped both hands on his mouth, and covered his eyes as well. He turned around and his shoulders started shaking. Was he … crying?

Then, the king could hear it more clearly: he was sobbing. The crowd calmed down and stared at him with a strange softness.

"We… We are doing everything we can, I swear," the fairy said between gasps, turning around slowly, shoulders hunched. "We know … this is ridiculous. But … but we _need_ you guys, we need you, just as much … just as much as _you_ need _us_!" He marked a pause to wipe his face on a piece of fabric on his armour. The monarch couldn't tell if he was serious or not. "Our relationship with you … is _so_ important to us. _Please_ … Let us make up for our mistake. We will, we will make it up to you, you _have_ to believe me. But… But for now… We need to heal. The colouration… We did it to protect _you_ better, to make ourselves look _stronger_ for you. We risked our wings for you… Don't you see we did it all for _you_?!"

The elves and the dwarfs were oddly attentive. Maybe it was his imagination, but the king swore he saw pity in their eyes.

"We're doing everything in … in our power, to make things right, to be your ally, to … to keep your trust. Please forgive us…" He covered his face with his hands again. " _Please_ don't turn your back on us. It's _so_ painful, and … and I, personally—I can't take it…"

The dwarf standing next to him patted his elbow. "Now, now… It's okay, don't cry, we're not turning our backs on you. We're just … confused…"

Roland kept sobbing uncontrollably, his hands still on his face. The crowd looked at their peer on stage and leered at him. When said leader noticed, he seemed to get nervous.

"It's okay, we'll… Okay, we'll open the market. Right, everyone? And tomorrow! And … probably the day after, too. Okay, let's say we open the market for four days, until all the soldiers are back on the field. Then, we'll talk abou—"

"Thank you, little one!" In the blink of an eye, Roland had returned to normal. "Let's shake on it, then! That's great to hear, I'm feeling so much better now." He grabbed the small man's hand while he was stunned, then threw him off the stage comically. "Before I go, I just want to assure you one last time that the Dark Forest doesn't know anything, so do carry on with the crops." He headed for the castle in long steps. "We're looking forward to the opening of the market. Have a wonderful day, my friends!"

"Wait, wait!" a woman yelled from the middle of the crowd while some left the scene. "How can you be so sure the Forest doesn't know? We know there were two soldiers there, we saw them come back in the middle of the night! And the princess, too. What do we do if they come?"

Roland came back on stage. "The soldiers confirmed they had not met anyone. That's proof enough. Good day!"

"No, that's no proof!" A man added. "We can't know for sure!"

"Yeah, what if they're lying?"

"I can assure you personally!" Roland came back and responded more convincingly. "Believe me, if they'd heard, they'd be here already. So, no, they don't know! Good day!"

A croaky voice suddenly erupted from the village: "Right, if they knew, they'd be here already! Hehehe! Well, guess who's dropped by to visit?"

Everybody turned around in surprise, and even the king stood up from his hiding spot.

An incredible number of goblins were jumping from behind the houses, behind the containers, throughout the streets, like a flowing nightmare. Laughing in high-pitched barks or roaring, holding sticks and various agriculture tools that they had probably stolen, they herded the elves and the few fairy guards against the castle walls. There were so many creatures that the king had never seen before: large green ones smiling sharp teeth at them, small toads with spikes on their heads and bobbing throats that looked full of poison, round-bodied monsters and others with trunks, and several mean-looking abominations with beaks and no lips. All were either clawing toward his subjects or brandishing their weapons menacingly.

The elves were screaming in panic, pressed together. The castle gates opened and they tried to enter, but the frenzy was blocking them in a mass. The soldiers flew over them and stood in front of the invaders, but they were far outnumbered. When the larger ones went to stare down at them, the soldiers trembled in fear.

Something was weird.

Before the king could pinpoint what, he heard Marianne before he saw her, rushing toward the goblins with her sword and a tribal shriek. She landed between the soldiers and the large atrocities, swung her weapon at them, effectively making them back away. Before she could do anything, however, some went behind her, and as soon as she realized she was surrounded, she started pivoting slowly on her heels.

"Where is your king?!" she yelled, frustration making her voice harsher than he'd ever heard. "Bring him to me! _Where is he?_ "

Yes, that was the weird thing: they didn't seem to have a commander. Where was the Bog King?

"Bring him to me!" she repeated.

"Take her weapon!" a beaked one yelled, and in a split second, all the goblins surrounding her threw themselves at her. The king watched in horror as the large ones tore her sword from her hand and held her arms behind her back. She struggled violently but couldn't keep them off her. To top it off, her eyes met his, furious, but he couldn't move from his spot to help her—his legs were not responding.

"I think that's all of them," a large one said in a deep, hoarse voice. "You guys go first. Don't forget the squash on the other side!"

The crowd of goblins scattered, laughing again loudly, swinging themselves from place to place like they were having a party. Powerless, the elves and dwarfs that couldn't enter the castle nor run away from the crowd watched in dismay as the monsters went through their homes, their warehouses, their barrels. A few disappeared behind the castle. The two goblins forcing Marianne down looked like they were having trouble with her, but she couldn't free herself.

In the distance, a buzzing sound grew louder. Dragonflies. They flew over the village and under the orange sky in a wild swarm, their wings giving the entire scene an eerie, unrealistic glow. The goblins, almost all of them with a few items in their hands, jumped to climb on the insects' backs or hung under them and hurried away toward the Forest. Before anyone could do anything, most of the intruders escaped with their loot.

Barely a minute later, only those keeping the elves and the fairies passive, along with the two restraining his daughter, were left. Looking around, they backed away and ran toward their dragonflies, grabbing their mounts one after the other. The large ones over Marianne finally released her, but one held her own sword at her throat: she kicked it from its hands and prepared to attack. Unfortunately, they were swiftly picked up and flew away.

Just when the king thought things couldn't get any worst, they did: the princess took her sword and went after them without looking back.

There was a shocked silence, down on the ground.

"Care to explain _that_?" One elf woman screamed behind the crowd, where Roland was probably standing.

No one answered, so another one continued, a dark sarcasm raising her voice higher: "Don't worry, elves, the Forest doesn't know! Of course you're safe with a third of the army, we can totally protect you! Now please feed us so we can keep existing!"

A man joined in the anger: "And what happened to the border being guarded? Why weren't we warned?"

" _Now_ ,what do we do?"

"People…" Roland's voice seemed very small among the profanities.

The king thought it wise to simply disappear inside the castle and wait for the General's return. First, he needed to make sure no goblin had managed to enter, and that Dawn was unharmed … and try not to worry too much about Marianne, for whom he couldn't do anything anymore.


	9. Chapter 9 - Prove Me Wrong

**Chapter 9 – Prove Me Wrong**

As much as he usually enjoyed quiet nights, the Bog King had spent this one chewing on his cheeks. And dozing between meals, due to a growing lack of sleep.

He wished he was in better shape. Something was bound to happen, what with the commotion probably going on on the other side of the border, and with the apparent agitation of his own people.

The sun was raising slowly over the unseen horizon, turning the inside of the castle into an orange, musky atmosphere. That was his signal that the night was over and that nobody would be expecting him to stick around anymore. His mother was still in bed, and his two acolytes had run off to the centre of the Forest (as he'd understood it) before dawn.

Normally, he would have gone to the summit to find his quarters and read until he passed out, only to awake when the cracks in the wall would get completely dark… but that didn't sound like a reasonable thing he ought to be doing. Instead of over-analyzing everything in the silence of his room, he decided to inspect the borders one last time, and rest midway, at the Old Maple Tree.

If the fairies were to cross this way again, they were most likely to do it in the very early morning, though he wasn't sure why. It was just most statistically probable.

And he'd been unable to contain his anxieties these past few days, especially since the incident, two days before. No use in trying to fight it.

He took a blind path through the upper leaves, avoiding the mushrooms' line of sight. His whole face was heavy with fatigue, but he refused to give in. While he felt a general uneasiness in the air about, chances were the next day would be just as uneventful anyway, meaning he could doze it off on his throne later.

(This time, he had to remember that even if the mushrooms did tell his mother where he'd been, he didn't have to explain himself to her.)

After absently patrolling, he crouched down on the edge of the hole in the Maple Tree, standing on the tip of his feet. There was not a single dragonfly on the pine. (Huh… That didn't happen often.) He slumped on his knees, completely furling his wings behind. In the distance, a bird chipped–good thing _they_ didn't visit much.

His eye suddenly caught something moving in the foliage of a few trees ahead of him. A tall silhouette cut through them, swinging a shiny object around itself.

The creature got closer and the leaves parted in its path, revealing … yes, the fairy woman, sure enough. What the hell was she doing there?

As much as he was shocked to see her and would have very much preferred if she had shown up another day, he had to make her notice him right away. He stood, so she did, looking down in his direction, freezing momentarily. He motioned for her to be quiet and pointed to the ground, toward the mushrooms. Her eyes followed his finger blankly. His meaning probably escaped her because she positioned herself to dash. Immediately, he raised both his hands to stop her, muttering, "no, no!" and fortunately, she listened.

He pointed upward, to the foliage, and flew there himself. To his relief, she followed silently.

The closer they got, the angrier he could see she was. Perspiring and panting from whatever exhausting exercise she had just performed, a deep frown contracting her whole face, she wasted no time in throwing herself toward him, weapon brandished. "How very fortunate that I'd find you here!" she finally said between her teeth, coming to a halt. "You and I have a lot to settle!"

The gravity of her tone was taking him aback, but he smirked and decided to go with the flow. "Well, if you insist. Where to begin?"

She readied her stance. "First, how about I wipe that smirk off your face? _Then_ , we'll talk seriously!"

His staff was gnawed once, twice, in a manner much more violent than what he remembered from last time, and she showed no interest in continuing the banter.

"I'll be honest—." He dodged a swing to his chest. "I don't really—." He blocked her blow to his head with just the right angle. "Understand why you came back."

Finally, she paused.

"I mean, it's not a secret here. You fairies are having an … internal crisis, shall we say."

She narrowed her eyes. "Well, isn't that quite the observation skill, your Majesty!"

It was Bog's turn to pause. "Your ma— Wait, what?" He was almost hit on a shoulder, but he managed to block it with both hands and dodge a kick to the stomach.

"That's right, mister. I know who you are."

He found himself backing off through the dance of their weapons. He wanted to take the offensive, but she made no openings.

"And I have no idea how you heard about what happened to us," she continued, "but I'm here to make you pay!"

So she had come to assassinate him? That explained how intensely she was trying to win. He puffed a laugh. "Make me pay? Make me pay for what, exactly?"

"For what you decided to do with the information!"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me! As much as I want to _kill_ you right now, it turns out you haven't killed any of us, so I have no reason to." She put a hand on her blade and used it to force his weapon against his own chest. He held her gaze, her large wings pushing them backwards with every flutter, and waited for her to finish her monologue. "So instead, I'm going to warn you. _You_ may be stronger than a lot of people in my kingdom, and _I_ may be unable to defend them all against you—but you're not stronger than me _._ I'll _always_ come looking for you if I find the need to, and if you spit on us one more time, I will never let you rest, for as long as I am alive. Am I making myself understood or do I have to carve it into your shell?"

He used his feet to steady himself on a branch. "Intimidation, eh?" His smirk grew just a little bit larger. "Okay, not a bad tactic, but it could be better, and I still have no idea what you're talking about." He used her strength against her to switch places so that she was the one whose back would hit a tree. "So, are you going to fight me until one of us passes out? Or are you going to flee around the middle, like last time?"

She slipped to the side and tried to kick his back. He saw it coming and brushed it away with an arm. "Last time wasn't fair! But now, it is."

"I wish it was," he muttered. Really, a surprise duel was great, but his body was begging him for sleep. He ignored the thought and reinstalled his mask of confidence. "That's not the impression that I get from looking at you. I'd expect you to come in much better shape; you look like you're rushing this."

She used her wings to spin around him, avoiding blow after blow. "Even an immediate reaction is not fast enough to punish the _disdain_ you feel toward my people!"

He deployed the whole length of his staff with both arms to reach her, but she took advantage of his unnatural stance and pointed her sword toward his collar, the handle near her shoulders, making him freeze. "So?" she taunted, panting.

(Damn him and damn everything. He had to stop using that move; obviously, it wasn't any good on her. How many times would it take him to learn his lesson?)

"Changed our mind yet, your Grace?"

He focused on her face, so close to his and contorted by fury. "Go ahead," he told her softly. "Kill me. But if you do, you'll have a real war on your hands, and it will be _your_ fault. Believe me, it'll be complete chaos over here." He paused; she didn't reply. "Is that what you want?"

She struggled against her words. "No." She drew a bit more assurance into her expression. "And I'm sure you don't want that either. Which is why I'm here: to hear you say you're going to leave us alone, and to remind you that if you don't, you'll have serious problems with me!"

"Aw, come on! What are _those_ threats for?"

"What, oh _what_ could they possibly be for?!"

"We are _already_ leaving you alone! It sounds to me like you're making a mistake!"

She remained stunned for a long moment. Their faces relaxed gradually.

"Wait. It was youwho ordered them to do the pillage, was it not?"

The confused staring continued for a short second, but he gave her a hard push with his elbow. Forced to back away, she rubbed her arm with an affronted expression.

"You're wasting both our time. You're accusing me of something I have nothing to do with."

"What? No, you are… you are responsible for your people's actions!"

"I would, if only my people had done anything to you!"

"Then guess what, mister hermit king! We've been attacked!"

"What? Who the hell attacked you?"

"Well, _goblins_! Who else?!"

It was his turn to freeze, having to consciously remember to keep buzzing to stay in the air. "Are you… absolutely sure they were goblins?"

She turned her head and sighed. "Yes. There were fifty, maybe sixty of them. We were outnumbered, there was nothing we could do."

Bog turned his head around as well and planted a palm to his face. "You've got to be kidding me."

She regained a straighter position instead of rubbing her brand-new battle bruise. "Why? What's going on?"

He threw his free hand in a wide, annoyed motion, and rolled his eyes. "I told them. I told them not to go. Somebody must have pushed them to do it anyway."

"You mean… they disobeyed you?"

"They probably didn't think I'd notice."

They floated awkwardly in the air, unsure and uncomfortable. Suddenly, her expression snapped back into something fierce and she raised her sword again. "And how do I know you're not saying that just to mess with me?"

He held both hands in front of himself, staff in a vertical, non-threatening position, his face completely open and honest. "I swear! They asked me to lead them to your side. I said no, I told them not to go. I tried to give them a reason not to go."

She didn't move nor did her expression soften. In fact, she looked unimpressed. "A reason. What kind of reason?"

"Err—"

"Obviously it wasn't good enough."

"I don't usually have problems with them."

"Well, now you do." The tip of her sword got a little closer. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

He went back to a scorn as well and grabbed his staff with his other hand. "First, I'm going to make you lower your weapon. You're making an unnecessary threat and I don't like it."

A wicked smile light up her face. "So you're asking me to trust you."

That expression of challenge suited her absolutely, but right now, he wished he could have avoided it. He was getting way too dizzy for another fight. "You don't have to trust me to accept a truce."

"I beg to differ."

He smirked back. "So be it. In all cases, I don't want you to think I'm going to surrender to your flimsy excuse of a threat."

"But you do feel threatened, otherwise you wouldn't mind!"

They clashed again, to his dismay. "You know, I still have no idea why you think we feel disdainful toward you."

"Really?" She did a spinning attack that caught him slightly off-guard. "How about stealing not only our food, but also our _farming tools_ , in a moment of weakness and suffering?" She continued after following with two more blows. "Contributing to making our own people turn against us?" Her expression became sour. "You have completely broken us! Let me ask you: what are we supposed to do now?!"

Bog's glare lost a bit of its ferocity as well.

She didn't give him the chance to respond, however. "But we will keep resisting, no matter what. The fairies and the elves will stay united. And once this is all over, we'll come out stronger, and never again will we let anyone step on us like that! Not as long as I am q—" She choked on her own words, but came charging back, sword high. "Not as long as I live!"

Her blade almost hit his fingers, and his bafflement made him drop his staff.

She stared at the falling weapon, then at him, with an incredulous expression.

He sighed, one hand to his side, one covering his eyes, and summoned his courage. "Well, here goes… You fairies are diurnal, I think?"

She hesitated. "Err… Yes?" There was a brief silence. "You mean, you're… you're not?"

He let the hand on his face fall as well and rotated his neck slightly to make his bones pop. "No."

He braced himself for mockery, or for a loud declaration of victory, but none came. Instead, a short "Oh…" escaped her lips. She seemed unable to find a more articulate answer to throw at him.

"Look," he started, "I'll go see them right away and get to the bottom of this. Meet me at the Old Maple Tree tomorrow. Same hour. And we can think of a plan. Is that good?"

She sheathed her sword. "The Old Maple Tree?"

"That tree, over there," he pointed behind him.

Her eyes darted around nervously. "But… shouldn't you, err… discuss that with the royal family? I mean, the fairies?"

Bog shrugged. "Well, they probably hate me and or fear me, and they have every reason to." He knew just what to respond to the one who had almost betrayed herself by saying, 'as long as I am queen.' "Are you telling me you have no influence whatsoever over them?"

Her face turned an interesting shade of pink. "Me? I… I'm just…"

Bog shook his hand to cut her off. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me who you are. I'm not surprised you guessed who _I_ was; I don't… blend in with the crowd very easily. Anyway, do I understand there's no way we could restrain both our people, without me and the Fairy King meeting? I don't think that would end well."

"Why not?"

"You see, there's an act that I have to keep in front of the goblins when it comes to you, the fairies. I'm supposed to be hostile to you. Also, I may be their king, but I'm not their ruler. They come to me for protection, to bring order, and this territory is theoretically mine… but in general, they govern themselves. Me telling them to put it back where they found it is not going to work. In fact, it's going to work against me, because they believe you are dangerous and cruel."

She laughed quietly. "No way… Can you believe my people say the same thing about yours?"

They shared a painful smile.

"So, you understand that I won't be able to place myself on your side if I want some form of obedience from them. But I will work with you to find a solution, if you accept."

"Yes, I understand. Of course." It was her turn to sigh. Her shoulders slumped. "I doubt there's any way to convince them to give up what they took from us, though… Unless you have an idea?"

"It's not too late to think of something. So, tomorrow, at the Maple Tree?"

"Yes… Okay."

She turned to leave, but added quickly: "I hope you get a good night's—err, I mean… a good day's sleep."

"Thank you. Will you be able to find your way back?"

"Yes, I think."

She flapped away through the leaves, in a slightly inaccurate direction.

* * *

The king was making circles in his library, fuming, while Roland stood stiffly next to the disordered books on the desk.

"At least none were found inside the castle," the old man grumbled. "It doesn't look like they took anything from us either."

"They wouldn't have dared. Bunch of cowards."

He turned his head sharply toward the young general. "And what was that you were telling the elves? Four days to full recovery? Where in the kingdom did you hear that?"

"I was only trying to buy us time, Sire. It shouldn't take the doctors too long to cure it, right?"

"We don't know that, Roland! You should've asked them yourself before giving the elves a number."

"But… what about the Miracle Eraser? If we remove the powder, then everything should go back to normal. No?"

"We don't know if that'll work either. Only the doctors know, _they_ are the ones who will decide the proper treatment. We can't speculate as long as we don't hear from them. Now, we have to do something about those four days…"

"Don't worry, your Majesty, I actually have a backup plan in case an insufficient number of soldiers are healed."

"You mean, if they heal at all," the king hissed. "What's your plan?"

"We'll temporarily disguise other fairies as guards. Put them in armour, so the elves can't see their faces or see that they are smaller. And force those whose wings are not too damaged to come forward and pretend they're fine. At least, that'll make the elves obey us again, we'll have food, and we'll be able to focus on their actual recovery. According to my calculations, that should buy us two weeks in total."

"I don't think we can disguise fairies. The elves will notice the wing colours aren't the same, they're not blind."

"Who said different colours meant false soldiers? We'll simply tell them we washed off the powder, and now they're fine—emphasis on the fact that they used to be sick, to show we're making progress."

"But then we have to pretend that the Miracle Eraser is the cure. What if it's not? What's our excuse for not healing faster if that's all it takes?"

"Tell them we don't have enough of it, that it takes time to make more."

"It would not be unlike them to suggest they help us make it. What do we do with all that stuff, in the case that it does no good to the soldiers? And how do we explain that we're still not seeing more of them get out of the infirmary?"

"First, of course, we refuse their help. We remind them what their role is. And if they insist, we blame the Eraser's inefficiency on the bad quality of their work."

"That'll create even more tension… The situation is already delicate as it is." The king sat heavily at his desk and sighed. "And my little girl, who's headed off to the Dark Forest all alone… If only we could send a search party for her…"

"Yeah, I don't think we can afford to send soldiers away right now. With no one around, it'll make me look super bad."

"I hope she hasn't met the Bog King…"

"I'm sure she can barely draw the courage to venture past the border by herself. Or at least not very far. No doubt she's fine."

"But if she's captured, she's in great danger. Or if she falls into a trap and stays there and starves…"

"That's not going to happen. She's a fast flyer, and goblins can't fly."

"Maybe, but the Bog King can."

"What? Isn't he a goblin as well?"

"No, he's not. And you saw the way his army exited the village today: on dragonflies. They're resourceful, and dangerous."

"Your Majesty, I'm sure they're not that dangerous. The only danger _I_ can imagine is if they fall in love with her. Yeah, that'd be way too likely. She's a feisty beast…"

"You don't understand. If they find her, she's in danger of being _eaten_."

"What? _Eaten_?Those abominations eat fairy meat?"

"They crave it. They believe by eating fairies, they can become fairies themselves—or should I say, turn back into fairies."

"Ah, that's disgusting! Wait, turn _back_?"

"It is said that a long time ago, they used to be fairies. Today's inhabitants of the Dark Forest would be descendants of the criminals the ancient Fairy Kingdom exiled there."

Roland chuckled. "Well, if they actually believe beautiful creatures like us could be related to the monsters they are… And the Bog King, he eats fairy meat, too?"

"I don't know how he feels about that. But he's been brainwashing his people about us for a long time, especially since the Sugar Plum Fairy paid him a visit and he imprisoned her. I don't know what he'll do with Marianne… but if he gets his claws on her, oh…" He held his head between his hands. "And there's nothing I can do for her…"

Roland drew a steady breath. "You know, there's actually another way that we could save the princess _and_ rally the elves to us."

"There is? And… without playing with the soldiers' health?"

"Yes. We could totally make the elves our army! What do you think?"

"An army of elves? Where will we get our food from, then?"

"We'll take it where it is."

The king dropped his hands to his desk very slowly. "What do you mean?"

"We take everyone: elves, brownies, fairies, turtles, frogs… We arm them properly, and we raid the Dark Forest. Pillage them the way they did us, and rescue Marianne at the same time. They won't be expecting it if we go fast, and the elves are so angry right now that they're still easy to convince. Also, while we're at it, we can take a little of _their_ food, see how those goblins like dining at an empty table!"

The oldest fairy sat back into his chair. "That's the only solution, isn't it? If we don't keep the elves busy as soon as possible, who knows what they'll do."

"Exactly. They might organize a coup."

"And we need to distract the goblins too, to make sure they don't do anything to my daughter."

"Yeah, we can't have that. By tonight, Marianne will be back in my arms… and yours, of course. You have my word, your Majesty!"

"Alright. Gather the elves and the others; I'll gather the fairies. We're leaving at sundown."

Roland bowed deeply to his king, a large smile stretched across his face.


	10. Chapter 10 - Peace or Blood

**Chapter 10 — Peace or Blood**

Marianne found she had much less trouble going home in daylight than in the evening dark. Somehow, the patterns made more sense.

She hurried back to the castle with renewed hope that everything was not lost with the Dark Forest after all, that there was still hope for forgiveness, and that they could still find common grounds to share while living peacefully as neighbours. To make that a reality, she first had to prevent the violence from escalating. Convincing her father (and prepare counter-arguments against Roland) that fighting back isn't a good idea was the main issue.

She arrived as the sun reached the middle of the sky. The village had not yet slowed down, except for the brownies' quarters, which were entirely deserted. The elves were running left and right in small groups and she first assumed they were still counting people, but when she stopped to observe them more closely, she noticed they were gathering objects and pieces of metal. In silence, nonetheless, with resolute expressions. As much as she didn't want to see it, it absolutely looked like they were preparing a counterattack.

Her first stop was at the library's window, but the curtains were closed, and the lock was on. Not one to knock, she glided rapidly to the other side of the castle and entered through her room's window, where her sprites joined her. She peaked in his room on the way, not quite surprised he wasn't there either.

To be sure he hadn't locked himself in again, she went to knock directly on the library's door. They were locked as well, and she heard nothing inside. And now that she thought about it, the castle seemed empty. There was really no one she could turn to for a hint.

Where had everybody gone to? Hopefully they hadn't already departed for the Dark Forest? No, she supposed, a swarm of fairies would have been noticeable. She would have seen them on her way back. Unless they had travelled on foot? Her simply not seeing them outside: how much of a guarantee was that?

Thinking her sister might know what was going on, she ran to the infirmary.

As soon as she started slipping down the stairs to the underground level, she heard the distant echo of a man's voice in the ballroom, like someone was giving a speech. Picking up on the sound, Marianne skipped several steps at once and pressed her ear to the large doors in the corridor. Indeed, that was her father giving a speech.

" … It's not difficult to understand, is it not? Or is it just me? We are a kingdom of warriors. Coming after us is a declaration of war. Not think we'd be able to get back what was stolen from us is condescension at its finest." There was a short silence. "And for _us_ , not to immediately stand up for ourselves is to reaffirm those prejudgments."

This was bad. She hadn't thought her father would go as low as try to enroll the wounded soldiers into an attack.

Then again, it was her chance to get them on _her_ side instead. Maybe she could knock some basic pacifism into their heads.

She decided to make a grand entrance by slamming the doors open, making everyone jump. The crowd turned toward her automatically; the king was the first one to gasp.

"Marianne! Oh, thank goodness! Come here, come and tell me what happened!"

She slowly made her way to him, back as straight as her focus. The fairies parted to clear a path in front of her.

Across the room were scattered lines of large flowers on which soldiers were sitting. They were wearing nothing but their undergarments, wings spread around them and patches sticking to random places. The king was standing near the central fountain, at the lowest level of the room, wearing a black uniform that she had never seen and golden medals and insignias she realized she never heard him talk about. "You managed to escape the Dark Forest?"

Marianne frowned at him as she stepped down each level with a carefully controlled rhythm. "Escaped? I was never captured in the first place."

He placed a hand on his chest. "Thank goodness. I'm so relieved to hear that. Did you see what they were doing? Were you able to spy on them?"

She finally stopped in front of him. Her sister was sitting on her own flower, next to him, holding hands with a pale-looking Sunny. "No need to. I talked to their leader, the King." The crowd let out surprised gasps. The older princess crossed her arms and smirked. "I've arranged a peace treaty for us. Aren't you relieved about that as well?"

The Fairy King was staring at her with a thunderstruck expression. Whispers started travelling the room. "A… A peace treaty?" He repeated weakly.

"That's right, a peace treaty. That means they won't come back. In return, we mustn't bother them."

"But … but the food! We can't just let them…!"

"The King agreed on that. But apparently, the troops ate it on their way home, so it's pointless to go look for it now." The whispers grew louder and her father scanned the room rapidly. She then decided to throw herself into a risky bet: "I convinced him to promise they would give something back. He said yes and apologized."

The older man turned instantly back to her. "What? He apologized?"

She shrugged. "Pretty much. If trying to make up for one's mistake is not a way of apologizing, then I don't know what is."

He seemed scandalized and confused. His tone rose above the whispers. "That doesn't make sense. The Bog King is a merciless killer."

So his name was Bog.

"He doesn't care about us. It's clear he made that up to lead us into a trap. Who knows how long ahead he's planning his actions. My only true relief, right now, is that it implied that he let you go home free and unharmed." He turned to the crowd. "I don't know about you, but I get a bad feeling from this. The Bog King already showed immense disdain toward us. He imprisoned our own Sugar Plum Fairy. He closed the borders and rejected my every attempt for diplomatic discussion. Now, he hears we have a short moment of weakness and he immediately jumps on the occasion to steal resources from us. That doesn't strike me as a peace-loving neighbour willing to negotiate a treaty."

Marianne matched her voice's volume to his. "It turns out it was a mistake on his side. He hadn't intended on doing anything to us. He lost control of his military, so they went on their own initiative. Which is why we didn't see him today."

He turned toward her. His speech kept echoing loudly in the room. "Of course, that would be a convenient excuse. Did you know, Marianne, that the Dark Forest doesn't actually have a military?"

"I do, yes. Only if you want to argue on the terminology, though."

He seemed to ignore her answer. "Do you know how they defend themselves?"

"Spontaneously."

"Exactly. If there is no significant gain for them, they will have to be convinced. And who do you think has the power to convince them? To gather dragonflies, to bring empty bags and travel all this way into enemy territory?"

"No significant gain? Food, Dad! There was free food on the line for them! That's a pretty decent incentive, is it not? And they live so far away, they have no affinities with us, nothing that could … morally prevent them from doing anything questionable to us."

"And he made you believe that he had a reason to go to all the trouble of keeping them home. That even a monster like himself giving orders was not persuasion enough for them to change their minds."

"A monster? First of all, he's not a monster!"

Her father rolled his eyes.

"He tried to explain to me that—"

"He tried to trick you, my dear. And I see he succeeded." He sighed and placed both hands on her shoulder to steady her. "But I don't blame you. It must have been a frightening experience, to have him right in front of you like that. You did your best, darling, and I can't tell you how proud of you I am."

"But—"

"Now, Marianne, heed my words: you are not to return to the Dark Forest." He let go of her and his face became grave. "If you do, you run the risk of being held against your will … and possibly used against me. Therefore, I _forbid_ you to go. And I know you, my daughter; I know you want to go back and find a way to discuss this! But for goodness' sake, if I must tie you up in the dungeon to keep you from going, I will –and I will not regret it."

"I swear, Dad, he was being honest. He was visibly shocked when I told him about it this morning, and I believe him when he says he didn't want them to go. He simply failed to keep it from happening. In fact, I caught him by surprise because as soon as I saw him, I attacked him without stating my reasons clearly, so he was taken aback and—'

"You what?' The fairies gasped again, along with the king. 'You _attacked_ the Bog King? And… And he didn't kill you?'

She let out an amused laugh and gave her fingernails a playful glimpse. 'Heh, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think I handled that situation pretty well.'

Her father slapped his hand to his face. 'Marianne… You're going to be the death of me. It's official: you're grounded to the castle."

"What? Come on, how old do you think I am?"

"I'm serious. Your windows are to be locked and no one is to let you out of the doors."

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. "If only there actually were soldiers guarding the doors."

"And you're going to listen to me. I'm your father, I know what's best for you and I need you to trust me on that.

She took a deep breath. "No, I can't. I'm going to go crazy if I don't do something! How do you expect me to stay at my window and do nothing but watch while my own people turn this landscape into a bloody battlefield, against those who used to be our kin?"

Nobody said anything.

"I'm not saying we should forgive them," she continued. "In fact, we have to remember this day and step up our precautions, especially on the way we present ourselves. For the moment, war has been avoided because I went to have a _dialogue_ with them."

He tried to add something. She didn't let him.

" _However_ , as you now know, the Bog King's will and his people are independent entities. He did commit to making sure it wouldn't happen again, but obviously, he can't be trusted with his own people. At the same time, we can't very well convince them ourselves right now, can we?" She turned to the crowd. "Or are you telling me you're willing to show them the large bandages on your wings? The Bog King is our ally, at least for now. Let's try to keep it that way, because _they_ , _the goblins_ , are unpredictable and hostile. If we do retaliate against them now, we are not giving _him_ a chance to rectify the situation, and we are being distrustful. He will not be likely to want to work with us again in the future. Let's give him a day to think and act, and then we'll see if it was a trap or not. So above all, we have to believe in the power of discussion and reunification before we make a move that destroys all possibility of a peaceful cohabitation."

"No, I'll tell you why that won't work," the king interrupted her. "There's a chance that we are giving them a day to organize troops and come back."

"Well, let's strengthen our defences, then. Keep the people in the castle, along with everything they deem of importance. But we can't run at them like this. It's suicide."

"We're not alone. Roland is with the elves and they should be waiting for us to depart tonight."

Next to Dawn, Sunny dropped a terrified "What?!"

"Tonight?" Marianne's anxiety started clawing at her chest. "Okay, you know what, Dad: I'll make you a deal. If you allow the Bog King only one day to show us he meant what he said, I promise I'll do as you say and ground myself to the castle. _But_ , if you refuse, nothing will hold me back from flying to the Forest myself and warn them."

"Why would you do such a … such a downright _reckless_ thing?!"

"Because I refuse to let useless murder take place!"

Everybody stared at her with wide eyes. Then, with growing confidence, someone started clapping their hands.

Soon, the whole room was cheering for her. Both the princess and the king gaped left and right at the crowd. Marianne noticed Dawn and Sunny were staring at the floor together in silence.

Suddenly, he turned to her, his face almost crimson with anger, his badges briefly catching the light. " _Fine_. One day. If by tomorrow, when the sun is highest, nothing has happened, I'll reconsider my strategy. Until then, I expect you to stay within these castle walls. But if there _is_ an attack, both you _and_ your sister will be imprisoned away from danger and blood _will_ be shed to protect our kingdom."

With that, amid the continuing applause, he stormed out of the room.

Dawn followed him with her eyes, visibly shocked. "Wait, why me? I don't want to go to the dungeons!"

Marianne sat heavily on her sister's flower, still digesting the fact that she had managed to convince her father to postpone his plans. Around them, the clapping faded. "Me neither."

Then, an idea hit her. She stood up again and raised her voice. "What about you, soldiers? Don't you agree that we should resolve this conflict without the use of force?"

At first, they only exchanged glances, but she waited long enough for someone to try. "I think I agree with that, but… I'm not against giving them a taste of their own medicine."

Another soldier spoke up. "Me too. If they don't do anything anymore –which would be great— then we can rest and find a cure… But if they do, then I don't mind going after them, no matter what I look like."

"Yeah, me too. I have a son; I would never let anything happen to him."

"Exactly, we all have loved ones we want to protect."

"I don't care about my wings! Give me a sword and I'll fight them if I need to!"

Passionate voices travelled across the room. Marianne sat back on the flower and sighed loudly. So much for basic pacifism. "Okay, this is unexpected."

"How?" her sister asked over the other voices. "I'm with them, I don't want the goblins here."

"I just hope the elves are going to stay out of this…" said Sunny.

* * *

The rest of the day went by rather uneventfully. Marianne stayed by her sister's and Sunny's side, lazily lying next to her.

She sometimes caught soldiers glancing her way. Some of those stares were simply curious while others seemed to be holding a grudge. She returned them with an eyebrow raised but didn't confront them on it.

She also noticed the underlying tension between the two friends. Although they were able to talk normally, Dawn didn't turn toward him much. Their conversations were thin, almost polite, and she was sure it wasn't because of her own presence, or because of Dawn's wings.

A bit later, tired of being bored, she went back to her room to get her sword, and trained with her sprites as hard as she could to make the night fall faster.

* * *

"Griselda."

The goblin stirred in her sleep. Was it already morning? No, her surroundings were still dark. Better pretend she hadn't heard anything.

"Griselda."

That was Stuff's voice. If she ignored them long enough, maybe they'd go away.

"Griselda! Wake up!"

She growled loudly and pulled her blanket of braided feather grass over her face. "What? What do you want?"

"Do you know where the king is?"

She paused, confused by the sudden question. "How should I know?" She cleared her throat and freed her face. "He doesn't tell me where he goes. Ask the mushrooms."

"Err… I already asked. They haven't seen him, nobody's seen him."

"Threaten to make an omelette with them."

"They looked like they meant it."

"Can't help you either then." She turned the opposite way.

"We need to show him something. It's urgent."

She sighed. "Then wait for him to come back. The sun should rise soon anyway."

"It's just… Something got trapped in the carnivorous plants near the borders. The patrollers captured it."

"Then throw it in the dungeon and wait for him! Stop nagging me, and don't you dare try to convince me to—"

"You should come see it. You won't believe what it is. I'm sure you'll be happy."

The female goblin grumbled some more, then tossed the blanket aside in a quick, resigned motion. "Fine. But it'd better be _really_ important, or _he's_ going to hear about how you disturbed his royal mother's beauty rest."

They both descended to the castle's main entrance in silence, Griselda still in her pajamas and drunken with sleep. Down the stairs leading to the throne stood a small crowd of goblins and trolls, one of them carrying a large bag on his shoulders. Thang joined the duo as soon as they arrived.

"So? What is it that you guys captured?" Griselda asked in a lame tone, scratching her lower back.

They put the bag down and pulled the top slightly, revealing the head of a gagged fairy brunette with impeccable eye shadow and a furious look on her face.

"It's the fairy he was fighting with a couple days ago!" Thang proclaimed proudly.

* * *

 _Now hiring: beta reader!  
If you're a native English speaker and have a moment to spare once in a while just to help me give this a more natural flow, please message me! m(_ _)m_


	11. Chapter 11 - The Candidate

**Chapter 11 – The Candidate**

Griselda gaped at the hostage before giving an answer. All lack of sleep that may have made her drowsy was forgotten. "A Fairy? What on…" She turned to the one who had woken her up. "Stuff! Why would you think that I'd be happy to see this poor girl all tied up and gagged?" She faced the trolls, putting a hand on her hip and pointing an accusatory finger at them. "You two, release her already! It's an order!"

The goblins threw dumb glances at each other while the fairy's eyebrows almost disappeared up her forehead. Stuff and Thang also were too surprised to react.

Griselda approached them, waving her arms impatiently. "Come on! Untie her! And ungag her! What kind of treatment is that? How'd _you_ like to be forced to stay in that dirty bag of yours?"

"But…" one tried to answer. "If we free her, we might not be able to catch her again…"

"Then leave her arms tied over her wings! What, do you think she's going to run around the room and scream like a crazy person? Pfft! We're civilized people, we can talk!" She suddenly dropped to a reassuring tone. "Don't worry, sweetheart, this is not going to take long, I promise."

The fairy nodded politely. At least, she didn't seem too shocked by her situation. Good sign; she probably had character.

"Come on, release her now, what are you waiting for? Hey, I know that red patch… Isn't that the bag you were using to carry the old dandelion roots out of the kitchen yesterday?"

The young captive turned a slow glare full of annoyance to the troll next to her. (It made Griselda grin.) In response, her captor was careful not to look back at her and proceeded to peel the rest of the bag down her body. With shaky hands, he untied her limbs, retying her wrists behind her back, and made another turn with the rope all around her to secure her wings. He finally removed the tangled tissue they had used to gag her.

She was left standing there, a bit awkwardly. All the goblins took a step away like she might explode.

Interestingly, she seemed to sense their wariness, because she spun her head in a very abrupt motion and snickered when they yelped.

Griselda scoffed at the sudden power change. "Thank you, you can leave her with me, now. Come on here, sweetheart, we'll talk over there." She pulled the lovely but tall foreigner by the arm toward the throne and waved the small crowd away.

"Wait," the fairy said after climbing one step. "My sword…"

Griselda stayed in place a moment to think. As much as this girl didn't seem like a threat, it certainly wasn't very wise to let her weapon lay around. Bog would no doubt throw a fit about it if he saw his beloved mother alone with a stranger and her sword in the same room. "We'll keep it for you until you leave, alright? Don't worry, we won't forget about it. Stuff, Thang, take care of it, will you?"

Stuff was the one to rush to them and whisper: "I'll take it."

Seeing everyone obey her, the interim leader turned around toward the throne with all the elegance pajamas, crazy bed hair and bare feet could provide. The young woman followed without a word.

While they were climbing the stairs, she heard Stuff convince Thang to make sure the patrollers left the castle, then follow the two of them up. "W-Wait, do you mean we're going to let her _leave_?" They asked, almost tripping.

"Of course we are! Eventually." Griselda took a seat at her son's throne (and noticed how badly it needed to be dusted). "What would you do, throw her in the dungeon to wait? Bog will decide what to do with her when he comes back. Until then, I'm in charge, and she deserves that we at least listen to what she has to say, don't you think?"

She certainly wouldn't let that interesting candidate not go through the whole audition process.

Stuff stopped. "Oh—Okay… I'll be on standby at my place." They slowly went to their seat, holding the sheathed sword and whispering to Thang to follow.

"Don't worry, I got this under control." She turned a pleasant smile at the fairy. "I'm afraid we're going to have to make it quick, my dear. My son, who is the king around here, you see… he is not very gallant. Especially with your people. Even though I can tell you're a very nice person."

Her guest hesitated. Was it the compliment that had thrown her off? Or was she simply intimidated to realize she was standing in front of the one and only dowager queen? "Err… I… I won't take too much of your time, I promise." She pulled a deep reverence. The ropes kept her arms stiffly tied to her back and over what looked like pretty purple wings. "My name is Marianne."

Griselda grinned with pleasure. "Marianne. What a lovely name! Wait… I think I've heard it somewhere before."

"Oh, err, m-maybe."

"Where was it again…?"

"And… May I ask…?"

"Could it be… oh, whatever. I'm Griselda! When my son, the king, is not present, I run things around here. It's very nice to meet you, Marianne. So, will you tell me what brought you here?"

"Actually, I came because I was supposed to see someone from the Dark Forest, but… you say you are the king's mother, correct?"

"No mistaking that! He's got his father's smile, but his eyes are definitely from me!"

She looked at the floor in confusion for a moment, like she suddenly had a mystery to solve in her head. "So, err, anyway, as I said, I was looking for someone, but I don't even know who he is. I had an important message to give him about the fairy kingdom, but in retrospect, you are a much better person to deliver it to."

"About the fairy kingdom? Oh, if it's political, then I should let Bog take care of it…" She rubbed her chin. "But he might imprison you without hearing what you have to say… Oh well, I guess I'll take it for now. Okay, what's the message?"

Marianne seemed to be bracing herself. Griselda saw how brave she was being and couldn't help but feel impressed. "In light of the recent events," she began, "the fairy kingdom would like to discuss the possibility of a peace treaty with the rulers of the Dark Forest. We are ready to consider a more equal trade of resources as a condition."

Griselda laughed quietly. Beautiful _and_ smart, how wonderful! "That's a lot of complicated words, darling. Too many for an old girl like me. Better let Bog take care of it after all."

"There's another thing, though. I wasn't expecting to be captured, to be honest… In fact, the possibility of him imprisoning me would deteriorate… I mean, it would make everything very, very complicated. Do you think I could be released soon?"

"I can't promise you that, I'm afraid. I know, it sucks, but don't worry! I'll wait for him with you. Believe me, he's not as likely to make you a prisoner if his mother is there to tell him otherwise!" She smoothed out her pajamas and started heading back to the stairs where she came from, needing to change into her prettiest dress as soon as possible. Yes, she had a good feeling about this one. "He won't be here until around sundown, though. Are you hungry for breakfast?"

"Um, a little bit…"

"Oh, and you must be tired, eh? You travelled all that distance in the middle of the night… Okay, we'll have a nice room prepared for you so you can rest. I'll try to pass the message for you, to make sure he listens to you when he sees you. Let's go to my room for now. Can you repeat what you told me in simpler words?"

The fairy looked like she was struggling to stay focused, throwing nervous glances around as she followed. "I, err, I understand this puts you in a difficult situation, but I absolutely need to leave. Really, it's crucial that I do. I'll come back tonight, though, if he's here to see me."

"We'll talk about it later. Now, I need to change."

The young one stayed silent, gawking at her surroundings until they arrived at Griselda's room. Why were Thang and Stuff following as well? By being extra nervous, they were probably making their guest even more nervous.

The goblin woman closed her door in Stuff's face nonetheless. "So, what was it you needed to talk to my son about?" she asked as she started rummaging in a chest to look for the primrose-coloured dress she only wore when she was feeling particularly daring.

"Yes, err, well… So, considering what's… happened, a few days ago—"

"What was that? What is it that happened a few days ago?"

Marianne didn't answer immediately. Griselda peeked over her shoulder and noticed she had gone pale.

"We… were the victims of an attack," she replied slowly.

Griselda held her breath without realizing it, but kept looking for her dress. Now, how could she convince this beautiful fairy to become the Dark Forest's queen if the only thing that was on her mind was her people's safety? "Oh dear, that's awful. An attack from who?"

"From goblins."

The small woman blinked a few times and turned completely toward her. "You were attacked by goblins? Even though my son, the _king_!, even though he himself _very_ _explicitly_ told them not to go?"

For some reason, Marianne suddenly looked relieved. "Exactly. I understand this was unrelated to you?"

"Oh, absolutely unrelated. For once, I agreed with him!" Griselda pulled on her own hair, then combed it frantically with her fingers. "The nerves of those fools… For once that I find someone who's actually got a chance!"

"Excuse me?"

She shook her head. Better explain later. She returned to her chest to change the subject. "Nothing. So what did those idiots do to your people?"

"They stole food and tools."

"Oh, that's it? Nobody got injured?"

"N-No…"

"What a relief!"

The fairy froze again behind her, though. "Y-Yes, but… it's put us into… quite the situation."

"I'm sure it did. But if it's just food, we can return it. It's nice that you came here to talk it out rather than, you know, return the favour. I like that. You're a good person, Marianne."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. About the food—"

"Ah, there you are, you!" At last, she pulled the petal-like dress out and held it in front of her in triumph. "You really are the best candidate so far, you know. I'm so glad you came here." The goblin smiled wickedly and started undressing without a warning.

Marianne flushed and turned around in a spin. "I'm sorry, what…?"

"Tell me, sweet girl, have you found your soulmate, by any chance?"

"Err, excuse me? I'm not sure I—"

"I'm asking if you've found your soulmate already."

"My soulmate?"

"Yes. Are you committed to someone?"

"Commi— No, no, I'm not! And… really, I wouldn't have it any other way!"

"That's what they all say. Oh, it's your lucky day, Marianne! You know, the king is very much looking for a partner, and I think you have a good chance of winning his heart!"

"That's… very interesting, but I really don't think I'm the right—"

"Oh, I'm sure you are! Just wait until you meet him."

"Actually, I…"

"Yes?"

"There's… someone. That I've been seeing. That I wish I could be closer to."

"You wish you knew him better?"

"Yes. I wish he'd talk to me more. I wish he'd… take me seriously. Can I turn around?"

"Go ahead."

She hadn't finished putting it on. Marianne turned slightly, saw she still had it over her shoulders and returned to her position. "Sorry, I—I'll wait until you're finished."

"So what's he like? I want to know your type!"

"He's… err… He's proud. He doesn't let people win easily. But I feel he doesn't know his true worth."

"Oh, my son is the same. I'm sure you two would get along really well! You'd make such a nice little couple!"

The fairy scoffed. "So, about the treaty…"

"Oh, right, you had something political to talk about. By the way, you can turn around, now."

Marianne visibly hesitated, then turned around. "After the attack, we, the fairies, have been thinking of a way to keep a good relationship with the Dark Forest, and a peace treaty seemed like the best option."

Griselda sat in front of her desk. She combed her hair into something large and merry. "A peace treaty, eh. Peace would be nice. Maybe we could visit each other instead of hating each other."

The fairy sounded ecstatic. "I know, right? I was thinking the same thing. I just don't understand why our kingdoms can't get along."

"Well, there's been an incident or two, I recall."

"Like the one with the Sugar Plum Fairy."

"Uh-huh. And the squirrel thing didn't help, either."

"The… the squirrel thing?"

"You know, my son may be all threatening and grumpy, but really, all he wants is for everyone to be happy. That's what you want too, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Oh, this is perfect! I can't wait for you two to meet!"

"Err, well, we'll meet, but… I'm sorry, but it'll be only diplomatic. I really need to go home as soon as I've talked to him."

"There'll be room for conversation, I'll make sure of it. You two will get to know each other a little bit, it'll be fun!"

Someone knocked furiously on the door. "Griselda, stop it!" Stuff's voice yelled through it.

"Quiet! Nobody asked you!" She put down her comb, placed a crown of dried flowers on her head and smiled at Marianne, a finger in front of her lips. "I'll show you to your room now, my dear," she said in a whisper.

Marianne's frown was amusing. Griselda tiptoed to the door and opened it as fast as she could. Stuff and Thang, who had been pressing their ears to listen to them, fell face first in front of them.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think you were still there!" she joked loudly. "Now, would you two be kind enough to prepare a nice room for this lady? And make it quick, or I'll get tired of seeing her tied and I'll free her myself!"

Thang rubbed his nose and sprung up the stairs. "Yes, okay, sorry!" Stuff ran after him and threw a long glare at Marianne over their shoulder.

"Wait, where's my sword?"

"They probably hid it somewhere. Pray they'll remember where exactly, I lost count of how many items I asked them to replace, only to never see it again…"

They soon arrived in front of the room Griselda used in summer, with thinner walls and a large pile of leaves for a bed. Stuff was the first to come back. "Listen, you," they said while staring straight up at her, "if you have a message to deliver, you better give it to him quick. And don't even think about messing with him."

"Stuff is kidding," Thang interrupted with a sweet smile, stepping closer to Marianne. "Please be nice to the king."

"He'll see through it and get annoyed," Stuff continued. "It'll only make him throw her in the dungeon faster."

"She's different. He knows her already! He might appreciate it if we leave them alone."

"Uh-uh. I'm not leaving him alone with the enemy."

"Me neither. If I can be useful—"

"We'll follow his orders and make sure _Griselda_ doesn't do anything fishy."

The dowager queen was shocked. "Stuff! How dare you get in the way of my matchmaking!" She placed both fists on her hips to show her disappointment. "Don't you want to see the king fall madly in love with someone and live happily with them ever after?"

"No."

"And see love return to our people, after all these years?"

"No."

Marianne turned an interested face at her. "So it's true, then? Love is banned in the Dark Forest?"

"It is!" Griselda threw her hands in the air dramatically.

Stuff nodded proudly. "And for good reasons."

"See if _that_ reason could really harm anyone!" She directed at the young troll, refusing to let love be spoken badly about when she was there to defend it. "It's ridiculous if you ask me!"

"And it's well respected, in general?" Marianne asked Stuff with a serious face.

"Yes, it's very well respected," Stuff answered in a similar tone. "The king insists that it is, and thus, it is."

"That's fascinating. I never thought such an arbitrary law could be applied to a whole population."

"Well, the people know the danger. And you should know, too."

"The danger?"

"Of love."

Griselda scoffed.

"So love doesn't exist here anymore," they continued, ignoring her. "Our Majesty makes it his priority to make sure nobody falls into its trap. He has been living on his own for a long time and he's very happy about it. Now, if _someone_ could take the hint…"

"You know I'll never give up," Griselda added for emphasis.

"Well, good luck with that," Marianne replied. Wait, was that directed her at her or at Stuff? "But I insist that I have to go, because if my companions don't see me before the sun is up, they might do something stupid. I'll repeat my message one more time, so if one of you could relay it to his Majesty the king, I'd be very grateful."

Stuff was the fastest one to answer: "There's no way you're leaving without a trial."

"Yes, you have to wait in your room for the king to come back," Thang added.

"Tell me your message," Stuff ordered. "I'll relay it to him and let him know that you're here."

And so Marianne repeated her message. The troll nodded and made a somewhat rude gesture toward the door. She complied in silence.

Griselda knew exactly what she had to do in the meantime.

Oh, but first, breakfast.

* * *

Bog threw the bit of wood he'd been fiddling with in front of him. It dived into nothingness without a sound.

The sun had already risen. And she still wasn't there.

They had promised to meet at this very spot, at this very moment, and yet she kept him waiting.

Really, what was the point in trusting people at all? Why bother and try to work with them when they didn't believe his promises and couldn't be expected to keep theirs? She was probably very good-willed but obviously, she wasn't reliable at all. A deplorable queen she must have been—if she was a queen like he suspected.

People were disappointing. They disappointed him, one after the other. Nothing new, he thought, but somehow, the disappointment always stung. There really was no love for him on the horizon after all.

He waited a bit longer, until the golden glow of the morning had passed. Then, when there was nothing more lying around to rip into pieces, he headed home, angry and wondering if there was something in the castle that he could break instead of lashing out at Thang again.

* * *

"So she undid the lock on her windows."

"It looks like it, Sire. You gotta give her credit for that."

"And there's no way to know when she left?"

"I don't think so."

"All right. Gather the elves, Roland. Depart is at noon. See you in the village."


	12. Chapter 12 - Theatrical

**Chapter 12 – Theatrical**

Marianne slowly let herself sink into the leaves, thinking furiously.

First step: get out of these ropes. She rubbed her wrists together, hoping she could break free with her strength alone (she worked out, damn it, better put that to good use), to no avail. The knots proved tougher—smarter—than she had expected.

Wasn't there something sharp that could cut through it? She checked the shelves by turning around to open them, but they were empty, and nothing was sitting on the furniture save for a small wooden sculpture next to the floor bedding. She had to untie herself somehow; there had to be a way. After all, once the sun was up, her father would notice she was gone —that is, if he hadn't already, and she suspected he had. She needed time to reach the castle and stop the army from assembling, and there was no unfurling her wings with her hands tied over them.

She started looking around the room as fast as she could, opening drawers again and fumbling with them, though careful not to attract attention, and not finding a single thing inside the furniture. This was clearly a winter room, and its usual occupant hadn't touched it in several months. Its dustiness made the search for a sharp object even trickier—her fingers left traces everywhere, so she swiped the dust where they stood out too much.

Why did everything have to be made out of wood? There had to be a piece of metal somewhere, like a mirror, or a protruding nail, or—

Well, she had a dagger under the top of her armour, but there was no way she could get it into her hands. It was in a pocket, flat against her upper chest, hidden under the catch of her shoulder.

Then again, maybe if she turned upside-down, or on the side, she'd be able to shake it off… Yes, that was probably her best bet. And if someone suddenly opened the door, she could sit on it.

And stab her own butt accidentally, no, that wouldn't work… If she were asked to stand up, they'd notice its silver gleam for sure.

But what else could she do? Cross a leg over the other and wait patiently for the king to come home? And then hope he would grant her an audience soon?

The princess kneeled on the leaves, suddenly deeply aware of the fact that she couldn't use her arms to balance herself but willing to try anyway. At least, by being immobilized, her wings were protected. She laid down on her back, propped her legs up the wall and wriggled to pull herself up, her neck bent and her feet pressed flat. It proved almost impossible past a certain point without her arms to push the top of her body closer—

but then she felt the dagger tilt slightly inside its pocket. Maybe it wasn't hopeless after all!

She straightened her neck, most of her weight now lying on her cranium, and tried to twist her shoulders so gravity would do the rest. The blade didn't move much, but she had a feeling it would go eventually, if she could… just… shake it a bit more…

And of course, it had to happen: she heard quick steps climbing the stairs right before the door burst wide open. She stared upside-down at the small toad-like goblin, who stared back with a dumbfounded expression and looked like he had been about to say something. "What are you doing?" he asked simply.

She frowned and muttered the first thing that came to mind: "I'm really angry, so I'm trying to calm down."

"How?"

"By making the blood flow into my head," she lied. "Please leave me alone for five minutes."

"Okay, good idea," he replied politely as he exited and closed the door.

Marianne sighed loudly. Of course, it had to happen. Of course. Such was her luck. It would have been wiser to wait before monkeying around. Now that she thought about it, the Dowager Queen had mentioned breakfast, so that probably had something to do with why he had come back so soon.

Then, it struck her: the dagger's sheath was flight-proof. It was designed not to drop the blade by simply being upside-down.

To her surprise, he opened the door again. "Do you need any help?" he offered, peeking from beyond the frame.

"No, thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Just call if you do."

"I will, thank you."

He disappeared and closed the door.

The pressure was starting to build up behind her eyes, along with the urgent need to think of another plan. She dropped her feet and laid back again, defeated.

She had embarrassed herself for nothing.

The ceiling was oddly shaped, she noticed. It stood out to her in the sense that it hadn't been carved the way the fairy castle had been cut into somewhat geometrical rooms. While the walls and the floors here had evidently been polished, the workers had left the upper portion untouched, removing only the parts that hung too low. She wasn't sure she could appreciate it in her current state, but given enough time to really look at it and in circumstances that didn't imply leaving her tied up in a foreign country, she could probably find beauty in this concept.

She got up again and wandered around, trying to distract herself from the inevitable anxiety in the back of her mind. Since she was unable to untie her wrists, the more time passed, the more being an obedient captive rather than a rebellious one seemed like the proper thing to do.

Was there a breach on the walls that she could work open, if she were ever left untied? The tree bark looked thin (how was the person living here not cold in winter?) and there was the pale light of very early morning coming in through millions of extremely small lines. She'd need her hands to inspect them for a weakness.

Waiting passively meant she would eventually meet the king of the Dark Forest… the _real_ king. There was no way _that_ guy was the son of a short, horned female goblin. Why would he pretend he was? _I'm not surprised you guessed who I was_ , he had told her —she was sure of it.

In retrospect, she never called him a king explicitly. He had only acknowledged the title "Your Majesty," which meant he was definitely a member of the royal family. It was impossible to tell his age either, so maybe he was the Dowager Queen's husband? There was no telling his age, but given his features and how tall he was, he had to be at least ten years older than her.

Possibly she could ask the toad-like goblin who was trying to be helpful?

"Excuse me?" she went to call through the door.

"Yes?" He didn't open it. "How are you now?"

"I'm feeling better. Hey, how long do you think it's going to take for the king to come back?"

"Err, it depends on his mood."

She waited for him to continue, but he didn't. She started to grow impatient. "So… how is his mood, at the moment?"

"I don't know. We'll find out when he comes back."

Not very helpful indeed. "Is he stressed? Is that why he left the castle so early in the morning?"

"His Majesty is not stressed. To the contrary, he's incredibly poised for someone with his temper."

"What would… take him away so early, then?"

"He enjoys watching the changes the rising sun brings about from within the forest."

She blinked, not having expected her guard to attempt poetry. "So he'll be back once the sun rises higher than the horizon, then?"

"Sometimes he wanders longer than that."

She let out a muted sigh. How could someone who tried so hard to be of use turn out to be so vain? "He should be back by the middle of the day, then?"

"He rarely stays away that late."

"Probably not, then?"

"It happens sometimes. For example, if there's an urgent problem to solve, he'll be in the village until past the second half of the day. He is such a devoted person!"

"I… see. So, is there an urgent problem to solve, now?"

"Yes, there's… err… On… On second thought, I don't think answering that would be a good idea."

"Oh, err, of course, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to figure out when he'll come back."

"Well, you should hear him when he does. Or perhaps I will, if you fall asleep."

"What do you mean I'll hear him?"

"You'll hear his powerful wings outside, and his heavy steps over your head."

Marianne looked above. There was a room over this one? "Okay, I'll watch out for it."

There was a short, awkward silence.

"What will happen if you can't deliver your message to him?" he asked.

"We're… going to have even more problems."

"Us, goblins, too?"

"Yes."

"Oh… That sounds bad. Did something happen with… I don't know, let's say, totally at random… your army?"

"Err… Well… As much as I want to tell you why, I should really let the king know first."

"Because if it's about your army, it's no use talking to him. He knows everything already, and he doesn't want to talk about it."

"Do you think he may refuse to see me?"

"He may send you straight to the dungeon like he did the last fairy. So, it really is about your army?"

"Do you mean the Sugar Plum Fairy? He sent her to the dungeon without a trial?"

"Oh, no, she already had a trial in the past, but after some time, she was captured again and sent directly to her cell."

"That's… That's unfair. Why would he do such a thing? He never told her why she was imprisoned?"

"She knows why, of course! He relayed the message. I was the lucky one to communicate it to her. Ahem. I remember she begged me to let her speak to him, but he never allowed it and she's been down there ever since."

"But she wasn't given a chance to explain herself?"

"Sire and her had plenty of time to talk already, he said."

"But… That's unfair. She should have the right to defend herself to the end. That's power abuse on his part!"

"Abuse his power? Oh, no, never sire! He did exactly what he had to do. You know, the Sugar Plum Fairy was causing great chaos in the Dark Forest."

"What kind of chaos?"

"She… Wait, I came here for a reason. What was it again…?"

"Err—"

"Oh, I just remembered! I have to ask if you like roots."

"Roots? I don't know, I never tried. So, what kind of chaos was she causing?"

"I'll be right back!" he announced before leaving in rapid steps down the stairs.

The word "Wait!" hung from her mouth, but she hesitated too long to say it before he disappeared into the silence.

Marianne turned around and shook the doorknob blindly, but the lock kept it in its position. She then went to sit on the bed again and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the other rooms looked like and hoping that goblin would come back and finish their conversation.

After some time, it became clear that he wouldn't, so she stood back up to inspect the walls and search for a crack through which she could gaze outside, once again without finding anything. At least, it had the merit of somewhat distracting her from the mental image of the Sugar Plum Fairy's despair, of her father's disappointed expression when he'd find the broken lock on her windows, and of the echo of loud military songs by crowds of fairy soldiers.

To distract herself further, she tried to guess what type of tree this castle was built from. This strategy didn't last long, however. She studied social sciences, not botanica.

After some time unsuccessfully battling her thoughts, a broad shadow crossed over a portion of the wall with a familiar buzzing sound, like a dragonfly preparing to land, followed by two feet hitting the floor in a thump. The person, whom she couldn't imagine was any other than the mysterious king, opened and closed something loudly, then paced the room in slow, wide steps. It was quiet again after that.

Well, she couldn't exactly wait in silence for the toad-goblin to return, nor for someone to notice the king of her presence. This called for an intervention.

Her spine straightened by itself, and she cleared her throat. She focused her breathing in her belly, hummed a quick voice exercise.

Her feet started thumping. Right, left, both —right, left, both. As a response, she heard something, probably dropped by accident by its owner, falling to the floor and bouncing a few times over her head.

She began signing with passion as she stomped the song's rhythm.

"Buddy you're a boy, make a big noise,  
Playin' in the street, gonna be a big man some day  
You got mud on yo' face,  
You big disgrace  
Kickin' your can all over the place."

The king crossed the room again, this time in fast steps.

"We will, we will rock you!" she continued, the tremolo in her voice finally starting to get clear.

He opened and closed something. More buzzing, then silence.

"We will, we will rock you!"

She sang to the end of the song, thumping and playing with her voice —although it felt silly after the second chorus, since she was most likely alone. Oh well, it's not every day you get a perfectly soundproof room!

The door opened with a bang, revealing the tall silhouette of the one she had been looking for.

And it was just the person she had been expecting.

"Oh, hi," she greeted him with a large smile. "Nice meeting you here. So, are you the king of the Dark Forest or not? Because I just talked to someone who said they were the king's mother, so really, I had to hear it from you."

He simply stared at her like she had spoken in a foreign language. The rings under his eyes were noticeably dark, his face in such a state of panicked shock that perhaps he didn't remember his own name. "What are you doing here?!" he dropped in a rough voice.

"Oh, just trying to talk to you— you know, as I promised I would."

He whisper-screamed: "I mean… How did you get _captured_?!"

A few pairs of feet climbed up the stairs before she could find a suitable answer.

As soon as he heard them, his whole face twisted into a furious grimace that made her freeze and forget she had to say something, the scales on his shoulders standing up threateningly. The toad-goblin and his taller companion from before tripped and slid in front of him. "Bring her to my throne," he growled in a flat, tired tone as he stepped over their small forms and left the door frame. "NOW!"

"Yes, Sire!" they both chanted in unison and hurried to her, their claws digging in the wood under them.

Marianne didn't need to be told twice. She followed the tallest one while her chatty guard tailed behind them, hopping down the stairs.

"And don't you dare waste his time with any of Griselda's ideas," the one in front warned, glaring up at her over his shoulder.

"Don't worry, I don't have any time to waste with that either," the princess replied automatically with sincere abashment.

When they arrived in said room, Marianne noticed the outside gate had been barricaded with bones. Two large goblins whose species was the same as the ones who had pulled her out of the carnivorous flowers and tied her up were standing in front of it. The room was as quiet and still as a legal court. Everyone followed each of her step with their eyes.

The Dowager Queen wasn't there.

Her stranger sat on the throne and leant forward, arched over his knees as he held his staff in his right hand for support. Two goblins with trunks and short spears, their heads just as high as his waist, stood on either side of his legs. His stare had such a dramatic intensity to it that she struggled not to laugh. He looked as if he was blaming her for every single problem he had encountered throughout his existence.

The word "almost" was worth highlighting. Marianne refused to be intimidated, no matter the person, and no matter the circumstances. She hadn't done anything wrong, dammit.

Besides, why was he so angry to see her, all of a sudden? She could have sworn that he had tried to act friendly the previous day. And his expression, when he found her in the "winter" room, hadn't been one of annoyance, or anything that usually leads directly to anger—it was confusion. He had simply turned angry once he had heard the small goblins climbing the stairs. Why?

They made her stand around the middle of the room, midway to the throne, between said two small goblins. Her sword was nowhere to be seen.

"Why was she in that room?" the stranger growled again. "Stuff. Thang. Explain yourselves."

"W… we were ordered to keep her there to wait for you, Sire," the tallest one of the two replied, his voice nervous.

He sighed loudly. "And you!" he directed toward her, pointing a finger at the same time. "I swear, if I had been here when they brought you in, you'd already have been catapulted out." His arm swung violently on his side as if to give her a mental image. He raised his back to the throne. "State your business, fairy, and do it quick, or I'll ask them to gag you and leave you with the mushrooms in the dungeon," he ordered, with exaggerated clarity around the end.

Marianne forced herself to take deep breaths. She had to be the one to stay calm, even if she was the only one. Besides, she had nothing to fear. What could he really do to her? She threw her hair out of her eyes with a whip of the head. "Relax. You know I came in peace."

He growled loudly. His fist balled on his armrest. "Is that all you have to say for your defence?"

"No, I do have something to tell you." She took a quick second to remember the exact phrase she had mentally rehearsed so much on her way to the border. "In light of the recent events, the Fairy Kingdom would like to discuss the possibility of a peace treaty with the rulers—"

"A peace treaty?" He twisted his neck to the side incredulously, then covered his eyes with one hand, snickering. "Ridiculous."

Marianne couldn't help being taken aback, though she refused to show it. It was like she was talking to an entirely different person.

"You see, _miss important fairy_ ," he continued, unblocking his sight and drawing wide, self-explanatory circles with his left hand, "for there to be a peace treaty, there has to be a war."

She started to suspect he was indeed a different person. Were there more like him, who resembled him, to the point that she could confuse them? "Well, your people have already committed a serious crime against mine," she reminded him, her eyes never leaving his. "If we don't settle this soon, it's going to turn into one. A peace treaty would be sure to put our differences aside and keep the conflict from escalating."

"Like you say. It's not _yet_ a war. And so, I'm fairly convinced a peace treaty would be premature." He slowly pulled himself into a stand. "We have nothing to discuss."

"I have come to prevent a war." She mentally patted herself on the back for warming up her voice earlier. "I believe we can avoid gruesome events… if we could just take a moment to talk about it."

He stayed in place some more, glaring tiredly, then dropped his head and rubbed his face. Another loud sigh and a few unintelligible grumblings escaped his mouth before he lowered himself back into his throne. "Prevent a war, huh. It sounds like way more trouble than just… letting it happen, no?"

"The Fairy Kingdom has no wish for a violent confrontation. And I'm sure you don't either."

"Yes, I know now's not the time for the Fairy Kingdom to go to war." He smirked down at her and put his face on a fist. "So according to you, I should sit here, negotiate a document that shapes the relationship between my people and yours, possibly saving yours in the process… with whoever knocks at my door and asks, it seems. Why not introduce yourself first?"

"I merely volunteered to open a dialogue with the Dark Forest's royal family. I didn't come to discuss the peace treaty itself."

"Okay, so that makes you… what? A general? A doctor?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm trying to understand who you are, pretending you have such influence."

"I'm just a messenger."

"No, you're not _just a messenger_."

She raised an unamused eyebrow at him, still not blinking.

"You're too calm," he explained lazily. "A peasant would be shaking in their boots right now, or they'd be throwing insults at me for refusing to talk. And you're using quite the fancy language for a commoner. You belong to the royal family, don't you?"

"She had a sword, your Highness," the smallest goblin on her side added.

"Oh, the messenger fairy girl from the fields had a sword!" the king humoured, mockery written all over his features. "You're from their army, then. The last one, I assume."

Around her, a few goblins snorted.

"Your Majesty," she addressed him to interrupt their amusement. She fought within herself to calm her nerves. "May I remind you that you don't have any time to waste and that you'd like to get this over with as soon as possible? I, for one, certainly do."

His furious frown returned instantly.

Was it a good idea to bring up the subject of trade and resources? No, she concluded rapidly. She couldn't play that card to her advantage yet. He'd only see it as an attempt to bargain her own release —and he probably wouldn't even believe her. In the end, she couldn't do much except reciprocate his insistent gaze with the most serious face she could muster.

"You say I'm impertinent," he spit, "but you're the one who's not answering the questions. Who are you and what makes you think that I want to talk to you… about anything at all?"

"I never said you had to discuss anything with me. I speak in the name of the royal family, whose responsibility it will be to talk with you. I am a neutral entity, and I came to get your answer. Will you—"

"Neutral? You're a fairy. Why should I let fairies enter my territory when I have made it very clear in the past that it is forbidden for them to cross the border of the Dark Forest?"

"Of course you don't need to allow fairies in. The negotiations will be carried out at the border, so that no one has to enter the other's territory."

One corner of his lips lifted slightly. "But for some reason, the law doesn't apply to you?"

"The circumstances are extraordinary. I want your answer as soon as possible."

"And for you to deliver my answer, I'd have to make an exception and spare you from the punishment the laws dictate. Yes?"

Marianne felt herself become hot with nervousness. Why did she expect him to be compliant, again?

"This is why you have no credibility to me," he stressed. "You came to negotiate laws by willfully _breaking_ one. And you think I'm going to release you?"

She saw where this was headed. His dark smile injected poison into her confidence.

"Of course, that would be most convenient for you," he continued. "But if I release you, I'd be setting a precedent. I'd send the message that fairies can come and go as they like, that they don't need to fear repercussions. And that if they _did_ suffer consequences, it would be unfair. We haven't even started thinking of what kind of rock the peace treaty should be written on and already, I'm putting myself at a disadvantage. So, what do we have to talk about?"

That's when it all clicked into place: he actually _was_ putting on an act. Flashbacks of him explaining to her how he had to pretend some things, if he wanted to maintain his own credibility and be consistent, raced through her mind.

Everything suddenly made so much sense. This had to be the calculated behaviour that he had talked about.

"There was little time," she tried to justify. "As I said, the circumstances called for our earliest possible meeting."

"In order not to go to war, yes, I know," he gestured dismissively with a hand.

"When I stood at the border, I couldn't find anyone. I had to cross it. Fortunately for me, your guards had the generosity of carrying me to your castle, half against my will but half helping my cause. You must take into consideration that my intention was only to talk with you."

"Intention? What do I know about your intention? I swear, little girl, if the conflict does escalate to a war, it'll be your fault; not mine."

Marianne's face contracted into an unforgiving scowl. "My name is Marianne," she echoed through the room. "And if you want to discuss law, you'll have to keep talking of me as an _adult_. Unless you want to treat me with the children's laws, according to which you should consider me _misplaced_ and hand me back to my dependants. In which case you don't, _you_ would be starting a war, not me. Which one is it going to be?"

He had seemed surprised at first, but now looked oddly satisfied. "Very well. Why would you need a sword, then?"

"Your Majesty, be serious. Our kingdoms are not in peace. I'd be a fool to enter yours without something to defend myself."

"You were quite defenseless to me in that carnivorous flower, though…" a goblin behind her whispered.

The goblins snickered. Marianne, begging her own face to stop burning, turned around to address an annoyed glare at the culprit, who happened to be taller than her. He didn't look particularly impressed, so she returned her attention to the apparent king and forced her blood to cool down. "My only goal is to prevent harm from coming to both our people. Their safety made the risk worth taking, and I certainly don't regret taking it. I have the best interests of both our kingdoms at heart, and when I say 'best interest of the _kingdom_ ', I don't mean your interest, or mine. I mean the people; both yours and mine. Making sure there is no bloodshed and no more terror was more important than making sure I wasn't making a diplomatic faux pas. Do you see, now, why I had no choice but to come here on my own?"

He started chuckling again.

She ignored him and the cold shivers that were climbing up her back. "And will you tell me now that you are going to discuss this situation with the fairies' royal family at the border?"

"Best for the people… What do fairies know about that?" He stood, weapon in hand, except this time, he descended the stairs toward her, one by one and with surprising grace. "Just to be clear, I should expect an army if I don't release you?" he asked, another hint of mockery raising his pitch.

She stayed perfectly still and held his gaze. "Yes."

"So you're not just a messenger, then?"

"Yes, I am just a messenger. And a subject of the Fairy Kingdom." She let him move around her but kept her eyes on his, turning her head slowly to meet him on the other side when he disappeared behind her.

"But you're incredibly calm. Or are you just foolish?" He stopped in front of her and poked a claw under her chin. "Maybe you just don't realize how dire your situation is?"

She managed to pull out a relaxed smile. "I do."

"You're tied up." He kept his eyes on hers. "Your wings are blocked. We took your weapon. Don't you think you should be a bit more… polite, for your own sake?"

Her expression didn't change, though she blinked slowly. "Are you saying I should be intimidated?"

His smile stretched widely so most of his tainted teeth were visible. "We happen to like fresh fairy meat, here. Yes, you should absolutely be intimidated."

The knowledge that he was pretending made her own act easier to perform. "Too bad, your majesty. I'm not."

His expression turned into a devilish growl. Without warning, his whole palm captured her face, squishing her cheeks between his fingers roughly.

Marianne held his gaze nonetheless, defiant.

" _Why_ are you not scared?" His hand released her cheeks in a jerk and caressed one upward, finally clenching in her hair, pulling slightly. Pain shot up on her scalp, but only her left eye twitched. "We could cook you over a fire and eat you." He tilted her head to the side roughly and approached his face to hers. "I could lock you up in the dungeon and never let you see the light of day again." He got even closer and whispered in her ear. "I could have you tortured, and extract information from you about the Fairy Kingdom. And you wouldn't have a single say in it."

Her lips parted. She felt a new shiver climb up her back and was surprised by the sensation this one left her with.

He finally relaxed his grip and instead pointed his weapon to her chest, over her left breast, with his other hand. "Or I could kill you right here. But you're too naïve to think I would, aren't you?"

"I'm not scared because the fear most likely comes from _you_ , Your Majesty."

His face set itself in stone.

She jumped on the occasion his surprised silence had turned into. "You may not fear me in the 'physical,' 'aggressive' meaning of the word, but…" One of her brows rose. "I think there are things between you and me that you'd like me to keep quiet about."

His mouth opened, but no sound came out of it. His grip on his staff lost its flawless angle.

"What is she talking about, Bog?" Griselda asserted with as much enthusiasm as ever, entering the room with an enormous food trolley that was most likely the promised breakfast.


	13. Chapter 13 - Mind Your Manners

**Chapter 13 – Mind Your Manners**

"Not _now_ , Mother!" he pleaded, turning around to stand in front of her but freezing at the sight that was unfolding in his office.

A termite and a moth trailed after his stubborn mother, who was all smiles, and carried a large table in the middle of the room behind the trolley full of food she was pushing. In slow, relaxed movements, they arranged the obnoxious shiny white cutlery and red lacquerware he knew the old woman only used on special occasions, and in-between, he noticed a few decorations in painful shapes of hearts and birds that looked awfully new and well crafted.

The ruler couldn't help but wonder where, in this forsaken kingdom, she hid all this stuff; in any way, he recognized the 'romantic' style the insufferable woman pulled seemingly out of nowhere every time she threw a 'candidate' at him.

Except, now, she was acting out of pure opportunism.

"Oh, Your Majesty, you shouldn't have!" the fairy chirped in a happy manner he hadn't heard from her yet.

He then realized he had been simply staring at the setting in shocked silence this whole time.

"It smells so good," she continued.

The two helpers eyed the foreigner curiously. They proceeded to place bowls and plates covered by their fancy lids on the table, as if absolutely nothing was wrong in the world. As if nothing worthy of notice was happening in this room.

"I'm not done with her, Mother," Bog complained. "Why can't you eat your breakfast in the common room, like you do every day?"

"Oh, this isn't for me, my dear."

"What?"

"Mommy has errands to run today, so she'll eat later."

"Don't tell me this is—"

"So, this is for you two, darlings!" She clapped her hands together and started to head back toward the kitchen, an extra spring in her step. "Look in the small bowl, next to the glasses. I took out a jar of fermented bean paste, your favourite!"

While Bog was still stunned, the fairy added: "Wait, Griselda?"

"Yes?"

"Please tell me you're going to eat with us?"

"No, I'm afraid not, sweetie." After she turned the corner, she screamed from the other side of the wall so they could hear her: "Let me just get some water, I'll be right back!"

The (supposedly) fairy queen went closer to investigate the table. "Wow, this looks delicious!" She threw him a sideways glance. "Hey, I didn't know it was okay to eat fermented food."

He tried very hard not to blush, but it was almost impossible when she was addressing him in such a casual manner… and with the knowledge that the other goblins were paying attention heavy on his mind. "Err…"

And they were probably noting everything they saw in their heads like machines.

Machines ready to disseminate juicy rumours that would probably never quite reach his ears, but that he knew circulated widely.

Damn it.

"Come on, everyone!" Thang suddenly announced. "There's nothing to see here anymore. Let's let His Majesty enjoy his breakfast!"

Just when he thought this couldn't possibly get any worse. "No, you guys are not leaving," Bog corrected, slapping a hand to his face. "You'll have to move this… person to the dungeon for me." He gestured vaguely toward the fairy, unsure what to call her now and torn between formalities and harsh words.

The young woman rolled her eyes and went back to inspect what his crazy mother had brought. The two kitchen helpers ignored his order and exited the room, but the others, who had been about to make a step, returned to their initial positions in one quick movement, pretending they hadn't moved at all. Stuff and Thang went to stand a bit closer to the visitor.

Thang stared back, anxiety gradually becoming obvious on his face.

Thang…

For now, Bog worked under the assumption that the talkative goblin was responsible for a good portion of the recent events. He couldn't prove it, though, so he had to swallow his suspicions.

"So… what should we do?" the fairy asked, clearly hesitating. "I suppose it would be rude to let all this go to waste…"

"I am _not_ sitting at that table."

"Well, normally, I wouldn't either. I'm not a fan of the… romance thing, but… I haven't eaten anything since last night and _this_ bowl," she pointed at the soup with a nod, "is calling me."

"Well, then, knock yourself out."

He went to sit on his throne, where he still felt somewhat in control. Nobody dared throw a comment into the tense room.

Soon, the helpers came back with two chairs. Everyone present in the room stared after them when they left.

Before he had time to add anything, his mother returned with a pint of water. "Come on, Bog, don't be shy!"

"I'm _not_ sitting there, Mother," he groaned, his fingers on his forehead.

"Really? Well, what can I do? Oh, poor thing, you're still tied up. Thang, be a good man and free our guest, will you?"

"Of course!" He jumped behind the fairy… a bit too eagerly to his taste.

When the young goblin noticed he was being glared at again, not only by Bog but also by Stuff, he cleared his throat and tried to look as if untying her wasn't making him happy at all.

"Sit down, Marianne," the old woman gestured as the tall female took place at the table and rubbed her wrists. "Is there anything you need?"

"Oh, err… You wouldn't happen to have a leaf on which I could wipe my hands? They're a bit dusty."

"Oh! You're right, that room must have been very dirty. Hold on, I'll be right back."

"Thank you!"

Bog massaged his temples. This situation was already giving him a headache.

Oblivious to his displeasure, the fairy took a fork between two hands and examined it very closely.

"This food is probably like poison for you," he warned her.

She lifted her head in surprise. "What?"

"You are probably allergic to food from the Dark Forest."

"I doubt it. What makes you say that?"

"You guys haven't eaten any of that for generations."

"That's not how allergies work."

"Yes, it is. Your body isn't used to it. This could be bad for you."

"Well, it's sweet of you to worry about me, but there's no way I'm going to pass up this amazing opportunity to experience your kingdom's culture firsthand."

Her enthusiastic answer hit him like a slap. Learn about the Dark Forest? She was actually serious about this 'reconciliation' thing, wasn't she?

The goblins were still very, very silent.

"You're the only one missing, Bog," his mother remarked aloud as she came back with wet leaves. "There you go, sweetheart."

"Sit down and eat in my place, Mother," he replied.

"Oh, me? No, I—"

"Remember what the doctor said—"

"Goodness, Bog, your mother is a big girl. She can pretty well eat her breakfast whenever she wants—"

"No, Mother. I won't have you skipping meals again."

"Bog—"

" _Mother_."

Finally, she sighed and gave up. "Fine, fine. But I hope you'll have the decency to come down here and eat just a little bit of what your mother cooked with such love for you."

"I'm sure _she_ 's not even that hungry anyway."

"My name is Marianne," she reminded him. "And no, no, I am hungry. This looks delicious, Your Majesty. I can't wait to try it."

"See, Bog? I'm always right. Now come on."

"Let it go, Mother."

Marianne smiled at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. He suppressed the need to communicate his annoyance with a growl.

She pointed the bowl of soup. "This is…?"

"It's mushroom broth, my dear," his mother replied cheerfully.

The young woman poured some into her own and didn't hesitate to bring a spoonful to her mouth. After diving for a second, she went on a long string of compliments the matriarch was only too glad to accept.

He watched them repeat this process with the entire menu. Before he even realized it, his eyes were about to surrender to his lack of sleep and he lost track of their conversation.

"I have to admit, Bog…" The mention of his name by Marianne startled him awake. "It's a beautiful forest you're hiding here. It's a shame that you keep it to yourself."

"This forest is not mine," he snarled, rubbing his eyelids. "But I wouldn't expect a fairy to understand."

"You are not its king, then?"

"Yes, I am the king. I am the _Bog King_."

She mixed some more bean paste to her broth, following the old woman's suggestion. "Alright. If this territory is not yours, then whose is it?"

"This forest belongs to the people who live in it." Drowsiness made his tone even flatter than usual.

"Is that so. You know, my lack of understanding is not due to a lack of trying to understand. It's just that there is so little information available."

"There is no need for any kind of information."

"I'm just saying…" She took a second to chew on a bite of boiled roots she had dipped in the bean-mushroom broth. "Mutual understanding could help our people get along better."

"The goblins will not magically _get along_ with the fairies, nor with the other residents of the Fairy Kingdom... especially not after what you've done."

She took another spoonful of grinded seeds and raised an interrogatory sound.

"You trespassed not only on _my_ land, but also on _every goblin_ 's land," he explained, though he didn't know why he even bothered to try. "It means that your ultimate trial should be a public one."

"Oh, Bog," his mother coined in. "You always know how to crash a good party."

"I would love to stay around and chat with everyone," the fairy replied. "Honestly. But I'm afraid I must remind you of the consequences of, you know… keeping me here any longer."

"Are you threatening me?"

"This could hardly be called a threat. It's a fact."

"You don't scare me, tough girl."

"You don't either, Your Majesty."

"Tell me about the people who sent you to my kingdom, then." He smirked, now feeling a bit more awake. "You do realize that by throwing you here, they accepted to take the risk of not seeing you again, do you? How does that make you feel?"

Marianne arched an eyebrow as she took some more soup. "I told you. I volunteered."

"And I'll bet you were the only one too?"

"The royal family is preparing for a military strike against you. I'm here to prevent that and you're not being very helpful."

A confused expression crossed his features for a split second. He pinched his chin in an unconscious manner, then stared at her in silence, furiously thinking of the implications of what she had said. She simply kept eating.

"You came here out of your own initiative, then?"

"That's not what I said."

"The royal family doesn't know you are here?"

"Yes, they know."

"But if I understand correctly, you were not ordered to come here and speak in their name. You made that decision yourself, hoping I would cooperate with you and stop them from doing what they intend to do, simply with a promise that they would get to speak with me. Is that correct or not?"

"You're distorting my words and I don't like it."

He was not staring anymore. He was glaring.

"As I said," Marianne added, a touch of steel in her voice, "they are preparing for a military strike at this very moment because they think it's the only logical response to your people's attack. I came here to prove that it could be different."

"You're lying."

Marianne blinked. "Pardon me?"

"We all know your army is in bad shape. They are sick, I've heard. If they decide to attack the forest, they'll likely get lost before they can find the village… and my castle. By the time they find us, they'll be exhausted. I'm sure they realize that. There has to be another reason for your visit."

"You're paranoid, is what I'm thinking." She turned back to her roots.

"He is, isn't he?" Griselda added casually.

"If what you say is true," Bog continued over them, "and they are readying an attack on my kingdom, it will be your fault."

"They won't attack if you release me and I deliver them a positive answer from you. I don't know how to say this anymore, Bog, and I'm tired of repeating myself."

Gradually, his face went back to an angry frown, but before he could bang his fist and yell, she took in a sudden breath, reaching for a bowl's lid.

"Wait, I know this three-legged bird," she marvelled. "It's a crow, isn't it?"

"That's right," his mother responded proudly. "Our family has kept these for generations. You know what this bird represents, Marianne?"

"Yes! Well, it could mean something different for you."

"To us, goblins, he symbolizes the sun. The legend says he lives inside the sun. That also makes him a symbol of power."

"Oh, that's very close to our three-legged crow! For us, it's an ancient symbol for guidance. He led the first fairies to the land we inhabit now. And now that I think about it, I do remember reading that he was the reincarnation of the sun."

"Really?"

"This… is significant. This, by itself, is almost proof enough that we have the same ancestors."

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

"I bet if we compared more of our old items, we could find more things that we have in common. Maybe even find that they were made by the same people. And we could make a compilation of—"

"That's not going to happen," Bog cut them short. "Not during my lifetime."

Marianne looked up at him, visibly disgusted by his comment.

"What?" he taunted. "A little contact and suddenly, you think we're going to be on _friendly terms_?" His tongue dropped the words like they were a curse.

"You have refused to talk with the fairies for a very long time, Bog," she remarked, as if it needed to be highlighted. "Why? Why make your kingdom a hermit one?"

"Well…" Griselda started.

"So far, both our people have lived very well without the other," Bog told her. "Are we supposed to forget that today?"

"Let us meet again, then. I don't see where the problem is. Must we stay apart until we forget how this has come to be?"

"My people rejected yours a long time ago." He tilted his head and pretended to check his staff for scratches. "And with reason, too. Last time I checked, you fairies were still at the top of a primitive empire. Ruling over those that have it far less easy than you. Yes?"

She blinked. "Did you say the goblins rejected the fairies?"

"Yes. Didn't they teach you that? A long time ago, there was a disagreement… around political ideologies."

Griselda nodded silently.

"There was a war," he continued, "and the goblins were victorious." He balled a fist in front of himself to illustrate violence. "They didn't execute the rebels, however, but sent them away so they could carry out their selfish ideas by themselves. They still live by them to this day."

"What do you mean, their selfish ideas?"

"I told you: the fairies rule _over_ those who are not as privileged as they are. In the Dark Forest, all subjects are considered equal."

"We don't rule _over_ them, no. The fairies live _among_ the other species. We do mingle, you know."

He let his staff hang loosely by his side. "Yes, you do. You treat them unfairly. Narcissism has made your species blind to the misery of others," he sighed. "You're so focused on your own little feelings that you forget to raise your head and look around."

"Narcissism? What are you even—"

"The only reason you, fairies, were able to survive this long was because you had some _help_ cultivating the soil. Correct?"

She frowned. "What's your point? Look, I came here to prevent a war. I don't have any intention of arguing political ideologies with you. We'll discuss what's important to prevent bloodshed. Once you assure me that you will be present at the border to speak with the royal family, I will leave the Dark Forest and not come back. Wouldn't that make you happy, Bog?"

The old woman was the first to react: "Of course not, Marianne—"

"Yes, it would very much," Bog stated, loud enough to bury his mother's voice.

"Once our relationship has been declared peaceful," the young monarch continued, "goblins and fairies won't have to meet again, if that's what the Dark Forest wishes."

"Only then will the world be right again."

"So give me your answer and let me leave."

"Your absence will have to act as my answer. _Marianne_."

She sighed loudly and lowered her eyes to the food on the table. "It really would be wisest for you to release me," she replied, her tone unchanged but not without a visible effort. "I can pretend I never entered the Dark Forest, so as not to give the others any ideas."

"That wouldn't suffice, no."

Her eyes snapped to his. "In order to maintain our relationship _and_ to avoid any more conflict—"

"I really have no idea what relationship you're talking about," he mused, leaning over his knees. "It's all—"

"No, you do. You're simply putting an act."

He froze. His smile disappeared.

It was her turn to smirk at him. "Why lie about the fact that we know each other, Bog?"

Quickly, he regained his composure. "No, I really don't see what relationship you're talking about. Our people have been separated for decades."

"I'm talking about you and me."

The goblins, whose presence he had almost forgotten about, started whispering to each other.

"I don't know her. Do you hear me? I've never seen her before!"

"Oh, Bog, was is it you're not telling your old mother?" Griselda chimed in.

Suddenly and without any warning, he crossed the distance that separated them in a few wide steps. In response, Marianne stood up and placed herself next to the table and fully faced him.

He grasped her face from underneath with his entire hand, making her jump but not quite freeze. Her right arm moved slightly, though he couldn't see what she was doing.

His eyebrows twitched. "Why are you not scared?"

"Because you're not scary. Let go of my face."

Every goblin in the room gasped.

When he looked down in curiosity, he found she was holding a dagger.

" _Now_."

He stared into her brown eyes.

His hand released her.

A wide, triumphant smile stretched her brightly coloured lips. She reinserted the dagger in its sheath, over her left clavicle. "So? Are you going to meet the royal family or not?"

"You will rot in the dungeon for this."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Yes, I did answer your question, and the answer is _no._ That means you're going to stay imprisoned until the people accept to hear your plea."

"No, Bog, you're not going to make her stay in the dungeon," his mother once again defied him, standing up to place herself firmly between the fairy and him.

"She's _my_ prisoner, Mother," he growled, lowering his shoulders to meet her at eye level.

"I don't care what you think," she said, pumping a hip to the side in provocation. "She is _mine_ , and _I_ am going to take care of her."

"Prisoners stay in the dungeon."

"Guests stay in the guest room, Bog," she stressed, pointing a finger to his chest. "I swear! How do you expect to make a life companion when you don't even know how to act properly in front of a potential one?"

To this, Bog raised his head and roared in anger, unable to find more eloquent words to convey his feelings. His scream echoed across the ceiling and bounced back on the walls.

Once his overly dramatic reaction had ended, he rubbed a tired hand to his face and let himself slump. All goblins, except Griselda, had taken a fearful step backwards.

"Wow," Marianne interjected. "At least, you know how to make a girl feel special."

"Stuff. Thang," he called.

Both goblins jumped and stuttered a wordless response.

"Take her to that forsaken winter room. And I don't want to hear from her until the evening."

"Hey, Bog?"

He turned around and only slightly looked at her.

"The longer I stay here, the more I may feel like gossiping. Just so you know." She winked at him as she was led to her new room.

When he arrived at his own, he made sure to slam his door so hard over her head that she could feel it in her feet.

* * *

The Fairy King sighed and went to take a seat at the forefront of the conference room. Soon, the two doctors supervising the treatment entered as well, followed by the captain that oversaw the Miracle Powder sellers' investigation. The three of them bowed respectfully.

"Go on. I'm listening," he ordered, not feeling very interested in polite words.

"Your Majesty," the male doctor started, "we carry both good news and bad news."

"Start with the bad one."

"We… still haven't found a way to heal the wounds on the soldiers' wings, I'm afraid."

"Keep trying everything you can think of. What is the good news?"

"We have finally succeeded in identifying the harmful component of the Miracle Powder, Your Grace," the female one continued. "And we believe that by studying it further, we may find a remedy very soon."

"You have identified it? What is it, then?"

"It's a new type of fungus, Your Highness. We have never seen it before."

"Well, that's one step toward figuring it out, I suppose..."

"Your Majesty, there is more." The male doctor raised a hand to his side, a nervous gesture to attract his attention one more time. "We have also identified the key ingredient of the Miracle Powder, and we think it may give us a lead in finding its origins."

"Really? Golly, that's encouraging news. What did you discover?"

"It is made from a mineral that is mostly found in the Dark Forest, Your Highness."

The king felt his jaw drop.

The Dark Forest had designed this powder… no, this _weapon_ ,to use against them? Was this a conspiracy to overthrow him?

"What about the powder's sellers, captain? Did you capture them?"

"No, Your Majesty," the young man breathed lowly. "They are nowhere to be found. We believe they may have fled the kingdom."

"Do you think they have anything to do with the Dark Forest?"

"We are taking this idea into consideration, but nothing so far has led us to believe it might be the case."

"Investigate this possibility closer, then."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Unless you have something else to report, you are all dismissed."


End file.
